


Ocean Eyes & Pale Ice

by CleoKhaleesi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Gun Violence, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Sexual Violence, Stalking, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Castiel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleoKhaleesi/pseuds/CleoKhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester was meant to meet Cas for a job, but it goes hay-wire when Cas is a no show and someone else shows up instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bitter and Not So Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Danjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danjo/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for my wonderful friend. It's been in the works for a while now, and I've finally decided to post it. I will update it soon!
> 
> Please read the tags, this fic is quite intense!

Dean looked down at his phone, checking the time. 11:47pm it read, and Cas was late. He stood in the dark on the side of some back street. It was freezing as he tugged his jacket closer to his body, shivering a little. 

Cas was meant to be here twenty minutes ago, and there was still no sign of him. Not that Dean expected a damn Angel to call him, or throw him a message to explain why he'll be late.

"Damn it Cas." Dean muttered to himself as he looked around. It was so dark, if not for the distant orange glow from the street light bouncing through the tall buildings around him, on the next street over. Other than that, he was standing on the side of the road as he heard the far away cars in the heart of the distant town.

He glanced up. As he did, his eye caught what looked like the reflection of metal. It moved, so fast he frowned and squinted up at the tall building. He blinked, looked around a couple more times before he heard what sounded like a trash can falling over in the alleyway in front of him. Dean stood there, peering into the alleyway, trying to get his eyes to focus.

He knew something wasn't right. He pulled up his phone, and sent the emergency code words to Sam's phone with the address of the eerie street he was down. He put his phone back in his jacket, slowly reaching around to the gun holstered in his back pocket and began to walk forward into the dark ally. "Whoever's there, come out." His voice boomed down the alley. "I saw you, alright? Show's over." Dean walked slowly into the alley, the dark engulfing him. He squinted, focussing his eyes on the turned over trash can and felt himself take a breath, fear rising into his stomach. "Cas, I really need you to show up." He whispered as he stared down at the spilled rubbish. 

It was quiet, too quiet as Dean glanced around, his breath forming a small mist on every exhale as he took a couple of steps back against the wall. He felt his phone vibrate, so he reached down into his pocket to pull it out when there was cold metal covering his mouth, a knife to his throat with a forearm to his chest, pushing him harder into the wall. Dean didn't even see the person coming, didn't see this man move in the shadows. There were no footsteps, no movement, nothing. How the hell did Dean let this guy sneak up on him like this?

Dean stared at the man, dropping his gun to the ground and slowly raising his hands in the air. "Dean Winchester." The man said as he leaned closer to Dean's face. Dean frowned in confusion, but quickly replaced it with nonchalance. He tried to speak, but the metal on his face was cold and hard. He couldn't move his jaw, so he mumbled anyway, trying to get the dude to take a hint. But that's when the metal moved. It whirred, sounded like it was robotic. Alive. He glanced at the metal in the shape of an arm, which was attached to the man's left shoulder. The plates shone and reflected the dim orange light, and it almost sparkled when it whirred again, the plates setting into their new position as the man pressed Dean's face harder. "Don't talk." He man said, "Just do as I say." He moved the knife away from Dean's throat.

Dean was already conjuring up an escape route, thinking of a way to get out of this situation, when the man released his mouth, but the force of him holding him against the wall still present. "You've made a big mistake, buddy." Dean immediately said, before quickly throwing his hands down to remove the man's arm against his chest. As he did, he kicked him in the stomach, throwing him back a couple of spaces and falling. Then, he ducked down rolling on the ground as he picked up his gun and rolled into a stance, pointing the gun directly at the man.

In all the motion, Dean was now standing in front of the man with the orange light directly behind him, lighting up the guy in front of him who was rising to stand. He had long dark brown hair, falling around his face. His eyes were darkened but not just from lack of light, but they appeared tired. But it was the metal arm attached to his shoulder that made Dean freak out the most. He kept his cool as he stood there, watching this person stand before him. 

"Dude, what the hell are you?" Dean couldn't help but say as he gripped his gun tighter. The man only smiled, reaching down for his knife in his leg holster. "Hold it, pal. Don't wanna do anything stupid now." 

The man paused, flickering his eyes up to Dean underneath his hair as he gave him a lazy smirk. "I thought I told you not to speak?" He folded his arms. "What now, Dean?" His voice was hoarse as he spoke, it sent a shiver down Dean's spine. "Well we could start with you telling me who and what you are, and how you know my name?" Dean cocked his gun, aiming higher for the man's chest. 

The man smiled down at himself, moving slowly as he moved to the wall Dean was previously standing at, the shadow of the wall darkening half of him as he leaned against it, arms folding over his chest. He almost looked relaxed, which made Dean feel a little more nervous. "Dean, really? Everyone know's of Dean Winchester." He said smugly. 

Dean stared at him. "Sure, but not everyone know's my face." The man nodded, his tongue finding his bottom lip. "What does it matter? I'm not going to kill you if that's what you think." He said with a small shrug, cockiness seeping out of him as his metal arm whirred once more. "Oh it matters, If you weren't going to kill me, you didn't have to come at me with a knife." Dean stated." Taking me to dinner first would've been a great way to break the ice." He said with just as much cockiness to match the other man.

He chuckled. He downright chuckled. Dean gritted his teeth. "Tell me who you are, my patience is running real low." The man rolled his head back against the wall, looking at Dean with a small smile on his lips, his eyes glinting. "I don't have a name, Dean." He bit his lip. Dean took a breath. "It's what I'm about to do now, that matters the most." He laughed, running his metal hand through his hair. "It's funny, that you mention a date, Dean." The way he said his name, it was written with mock. "I know men like you, the way you are." Dean watched as the man slowly moved himself from the wall, arms falling to his sides as he slowly, so damn slowly walked towards Dean. Dean couldn't move, suddenly taken back by the man's calm approach. He kept the gun raised high as he watched the man stand directly in front of him.

"It's what you do with most people, on those 'first dates', as you call them. When you take them back to those hotels you stay at," The man took another step forward, the barrel of the gun pressing into the man's chest. "That I'm going to do to you." He smiled, his eyes darkening around the dim light. Dean's mouth opened, confusion, then realization washed over him as he watched the man grab his hand around the gun. "That's right, Dean." He had his arm pinned behind his back so fast Dean couldn't even blink as quickly as it happened. He was suddenly pushed face first into the cold brick wall that they both had previously stood at. The gun was dropped as he was thrown against it, he let out a huff of breath as he hit the wall. His head smacked the bricks, he bit his tongue as a graze on his forehead seared into his skin. He blinked the pain away as he tried to think of another way out of this, so he stayed silent.

"Not so tough now are we, Winchester?" The man behind him said as he held his wrists behind his back and pressed him into the wall. He felt a hand snaking its way around his side, searching for more weapons presumably. Dean hissed as the man ran a cold hand along his stomach. The man paused, before continuing down Dean's jean pockets, feeling them thoroughly before he slowly ran a hand over Dean's dick. Dean writhed, "Hey dude, I don't swing that way, sorry to disappoint." He said, his throat straining to get the words out as he was pressed into the wall. "Shut your mouth." Dean frowned in sarcasm, "Don't need to be rude about it. Why don't you let me go before you really get in trouble." Dean warned, flinching as the man retracted his hand and placed a finger through the hook of Dean's back jean belt loop hole, pulling them down only a little.

"No one's coming for you, Dean." He said, his finger pulling Dean's pants down even more so. Dean felt his pants moving down slowly, resisting as it became tighter on his hips. "Man, listen, I don't know what you want from me. I-" His face was pushed into the brick wall even more as the man pressed up behind him. "I've told you one too many times not to speak. Don't make me tell you again." Lips trailed on the nape of Dean's neck, Dean felt revulsion rise up inside him. The overbearing need to get away suddenly overwhelmed him. He breathed hard, knowing what this guy wanted now, and not really believing it.

"My brother will come if Cas doesn't." He tried, feeling his mouth go dry as the man reached his hand around to Dean's pants button, unclipping it. He felt the zipper pull down as he slowly pulled Dean's pants down. "Please, don't do this." He tried to keep his voice steady.

The man said nothing, kept removing Dean's pants and boxers. The chill air hit Dean's thighs in an instant, causing goosebumps to form all over his body. He wanted to reach down and cover himself, he was on full display to the man now, and Dean didn't know how to get out of this. "Ah. The Angel?" Is all the man said as he ran a real hand over one of Dean's cheeks, holding onto Dean's wrists with his metal hand. "I thought you said you don't swing that way?"

Dean set his jaw, panic rising in his gut. There's no possible way this guy knows about Cas. He felt the panic hit him so hard, the adrenaline making his body shake along with the freezing cold. He felt like he was going to be sick as he felt the man put a finger at Dean's entrance. Dean screwed his eyes shut as he felt the finger push inside him, and it hurt. The burning sensation was overwhelming as he tried to move away from it, trying desperately to hug himself closer to the wall. He let out a pained noise as the man removed the finger, spit on his hand and pushed it right back inside. He moved it in and out as Dean whined, feeling sick to his stomach. "Stop," Dean said in a hoarse voice, tears forming in his eyes. The man only added a finger, pushing inside of him deep. He felt himself crumble, he felt the resistance inside him crack as he let out a sob, feeling the situation forming around him become realer and realer. "He's coming, he's on his way." Dean grit his teeth as he said the words. The man pressed himself up against Dean's back once more, his face moving towards Dean's ear. "Who?" He slid his fingers inside of Dean faster now, curling inside him. "Your brother?" He licked his earlobe, then moved his lips to Dean's neck. Placing a soft, almost gentle kiss to his neck. "Or your lover?"

Dean's eyes flew open as the man replaced his fingers with his spit covered cock, pushing inside of him in one long thrust. Pushing all the way inside until he could feel him pressed up completely on his ass. Dean let out a shuddering breath, tears falling down his cheeks. He felt the burn again, just as raw as before as the man grabbed Dean's hair and pulled his face back, holding his hands behind his back tightly in his metal hand as he began to roll his hips slowly inside of him. Dean felt every inch of his cock inside him, moving deep then sliding out smoothly, then return back inside. He realized as it went on, the pain was retreating, and the man was undulating his hips slowly, with reason behind it. Then it hit him.

It's supposed to  _ feel good _ .

Dean shuddered, wincing as felt the muscles in his shoulders untense for a brief moment as the man angled his cock inside him at just the right angle, causing Dean to let out an involuntary groan. Guilt and shame wracked his body instantly as his cock gave a testing bob between his legs. The man kept fucking him like this, slow and downright good as he picked up the pace. His hand in his hair gave a gentle tug and Dean bit his lip as he let more tears fall from his eyes. "No, please stop, please stop." He repeated between breaths, feeling the horrible shame of pleasure building inside him. "I'll do whatever you want, I'll give you-" A small grunt escaped his lips as he felt sheer pleasure fill him when the man angled his cock that same way, rolling his hips behind him and pushing his cock deep inside of him.

Dean's legs nearly gave way as he let out a soft moan as the man hit the same spot again, fucking him faster. The damn shame of it all, Dean never felt so horribly violated in all his life, his mind felt numb as he felt the pleasure pulses inside him and his body responding. 

Dean closed his eyes as he fucked him. Letting his mouth fall open to let out another involuntary groan slip from between his lips, he heard the sound of a gun cock from behind him. "Let him go." Dean's eyes snapped open, he wanted to turn his head, but the man's grip in his hair was so tight. He froze, his stomach dropping as he felt the cock inside him slide out slowly. He let out a whimper as it left him, he clenched his jaw as he waited. "Move away from him."

Sam. It was Sam.

The man shoved Dean even further against the wall as he retreated away from Dean. As soon as he let him go, Dean fell to the ground, not realizing he was allowing his weight to be held with the guy who was just fucking him. Or was he pushing back into him? Dean lost that thought the second he hit the wet, rough, cold ground. He pulled up his pants as he moved up against the wall facing Sam and the man, pushing his knees up to his chest.

"You put your hands on my brother!-" Sam yelled, engaging on him. "I'm going to kill you!" He screamed as he approached the man, anger boiling out of him as he cocked his pistol. 

It all happened so fast. One second Sam's about to shoot the guy, the next he's locked and loaded the gun, aiming at his face when the man ushered an absolutely bone chilling punch to Sam's face, throwing Sam to the ground before pacing to where Dean was seated. Dean watched with unbelieving eyes as Sam fell, hitting the ground with a grunt and a wet thud.

The man stalked over to Dean, his eyes set on him. He knelt down, gripping Dean's chin in his metal hand. "You won't kill me Dean, nor will your brother." He leaned in close, pulling Dean's face so damn close he could feel his breath on his face. Dean looked up at the man with the most disgust he could conjure. "You wanna know why, Dean?" 

Sam was dazed, that was clear. He was still trying to sit up, running his hand over his face. "Dean!" Sam called, his voice shaky with fear and anger, and now confusion.

The man looked over his shoulder briefly, smiling before locking his eyes back to Dean. He ran his metal hand over Dean's cheek, then gripped his jaw and pulled his face to his, pressing their lips together. Dean struggled, he didn't kiss back as the man gave Dean a quick, brief, hot kiss. "Because you fucking loved it." He grazed his lips past his cheek, to his ear as he whispered. "I'll see you again soon." Dean stared blankly up at him as he stood, winked down at him, then ran away past the tall black buildings and into the darkness. 

Dean didn't realize just how dry his mouth went as he sat there in total shock. He didn't even see Sam or hear him approach him before he was in front of him. "Dean!, Dean, are you alright?" Sam was holding his face with care as he looked him all over. "C'mon man, let's get you up, can you get up?" He said, holding onto Dean's shoulder as Dean gave him a small nod and they rose together slowly. Dean gripped onto Sam's side, sighing into him as he realized he was finally with someone.

Sam was obviously still dazed, Dean saw it in his eyes as he helped him walk. Sam's had worse things happen to him sure, but that was one hell of a punch, and Dean was surprised Sam was even walking after it. "Sam- are you, are you alright?" Dean said, feeling nauseous.

Sam gripped him tighter, blinked a couple times before giving Dean a weak smile. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me right now."

"C-Cas, where's Ca-" He tried, suddenly feeling so goddamn tired and down right sick as the walked slowly down the street. "Sammy-" He tried to sound levelled, tried to make his voice not sound so urgent. 

But he was. He was urgent for Cas, he needed Cas right now. Where the fuck even was he? Why would he do this to Dean, it wasn't like Cas to stand him up. Dean felt bitter disappointment, shame and filth wash over him as he realized Cas really didn't come. It sent a shock wave of utter sadness through him as Sam shushed him as they walked to the car, telling him everything's okay and that Sam will call for Cas when they get back to the hotel.

As soon as Dean was seated in the Impala, he let himself cry. He didn't make a noise as they drove away from what just happened. He didn't so much as make a squeak as large tears streaked his face. He just kept his face turned, looking out the window as he they drove. Sam didn't mention anything, he didn't speak. Dean knew that Sam knew he was crying, but he didn't say a word. Dean watched the street lights pass, listening to the rumble of the engine as they drove on. He wiped his eyes, but the tears didn't stop for the whole drive to the hotel.

When they arrived, Sam helped Dean out the car and walked him to the room. As they entered the room, Dean pushed himself from Sam as he stumbled inside. "I'm fine Sammy, gonna take a shower." He walked away from him, gripping the wall for extra balance as he approached the bathroom. Sam just looked at him, pursing his lips as he watched Dean walk away from him.

When he entered, he closed the door. He didn't think as he removed his clothes, turned the water on, twisted the hot water on as bearable as possible and stepped under the steaming water. The slight sting of  _ justbearable _ hot water on his chest made him take a sharp breath as he let it run over him. He stood, bowing his head under the stream and getting his hair wet as well. 

The flashes began. 

He felt the same sick feeling inside him as the thoughts of what just happened played in his mind. He felt himself want to gag, he felt sick to his stomach. He ran a hand over his face, removing the water as he stared up at the ceiling. "Cas." He whispered as he closed his eyes. "Cas, man. I needed you." 

The tears were back as he tried to think of black hair, but thought of long dark brown. He gripped the steamy wall as he tried to think of dark eyelashes over ocean blue eyes, but only saw ice blue staring down at him. He tried to think of Cas, his voice, his touch. But flashes of glinting metal, dim flickers of orange street lights and a hoarse voice is all that crept up his skin. He let out a shudder as his hand snaked its way to his cock, which was at full attention. 

He groaned before clenching his jaw as he ran his fist over his cock, feeling the spike of pleasure roll through his hips and up his stomach. He tilted his head back as he let the stream of water coat his cock through his fist as he pumped harder, faster. He couldn't believe how ready he was to come, and he wanted to come so badly. He pictured a tan trench coat and the sound of fluttering wings. The feel of Cas' lips on his mouth, moving down his neck as he let out a small moan as he felt his orgasm build. He became lost in the feeling, his cock was aching to come, his shoulders twitched as he ran his slick hand over his cock. He let Cas' name slip past his lips as he felt the rise of his orgasm coming closer, he was so close as he fucked into his hand. 

When he came, he came hard. He felt the head of his cock pulse as he came with a jerk of his hips. He moaned once, a small crack of his voice before he moaned again, the sound bouncing off the walls as he bit the back of his free hand as he continued to come into the stream of water. He felt his shoulders hunch as he felt himself come down from the high. He was suddenly out of breath as he stood in the steamy water.  He frowned, sighed deep as he shut his eyes, letting go of his cock. 

"I'll see you again soon." 

His cock pulsed as he thought of the words, he felt his stomach flutter with butterflies as he felt his beating heart nearly skip a beat at thought. He instantly pushed down the feeling, feeling the shame of what he just did to himself come to realization. What the fuck did he just do? He shook his head, standing up tall and grabbing the soap from the bar holder as he began to wash himself. 

Cas. Cas is who he thought of the whole time. It was Cas making his cock hard. It was Cas. He repeatedly told himself. As he was washing himself, he was lost in thought, trying to think of Cas and only Cas as he reached around and felt his backside. It sent a shivering reminder once more through him as he was hit with a small dose of disgust and now this time, fear. "Oh, fuck." Dean whispered as he felt his sore hole with his finger. It hurt, but not as much as he thought it would. That scared him even more. He checked his hand. No blood, that's good. Thats a good thing, he told himself. If any good can come out of this, it's this, right? Atleast he wont need a doctor, at least this way he'll heal okay.

With that, he turned off the water, stepping out and drying himself. He looked in the mirror once, noticing just how down right tired he was. He lost track of time, considering the events. 

As he walked out of the bathroom he kept the towel around his waist. Sam had turned the lights off and was snoring softly in his bed. Dean sighed in relief as he approached his bedside drawer. He pulled out a t-shirt, fresh underwear and sweatpants and quietly got changed. He jumped into his bed, curling up on his side as he winced at the sore throb of his reminder. He shut his eyes, wrapping his hands together in front of him and for once, began to actually pray.

"Castiel. Wherever you are. You let me down today, big time. I just want you here, I need you here." Dean bit his lip as he thought of him, his hair tousled and messy. His sweet, alluring smile. He felt tears come to his eyes for the millionth time this night. "Please, just.. You know where to find me, Cas. Just-" He bit back a sob, feeling himself begin to cry a little. He breathed deeply, feeling the sadness wash over him as he felt the sleepiness creep up as he whispered, "Just find me Cas. And hurry up."   
He fell asleep thinking of Castiel. Castiel's hands on him, Castiel holding him. He almost felt him on his skin as peace filled his body. Everything will be okay. He was asleep to the sound of fluttering wings.


	2. Everything Is Blue

When Dean woke up, he felt the muscles in his back and thighs ache instantly. He rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He shot his eyes open and sat up so fast as he felt the horrible throb of last night reminding him as he hissed, gripping his blankets as pain flared up his backside.

"Woah, hey," Sam's familiar voice. Dean looked to his left to see Sam sitting on the bed, TV on low. Sam's eyes were careful, kind and filled with emergency as he watched Dean. Dean sighed, setting his jaw as he said nothing to Sam, he just got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He felt Sam's eyes on him the entire time until he reached the bathroom.

He did his business before coming back out to find Sam still on the bed pretending to watch TV. Dean walked past him to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water, realising just how thirsty he was, he downed a full glass in one go. He filled up the glass once more, and walked back to his bed, sitting in it as carefully as he could and pulling the covers around him, and said nothing.

Sam cleared his throat as he turned the TV off by the remote and turned to face Dean. Folding his hands in his lap he gave Dean a sympathetic look, before swallowing. "So," He began. "I can't find Cas." He looked up at Dean with a careful look before continuing. "He isn't responding to my prayers..." Dean watched Sam, feeling the hole become bigger and bigger in his heart knowing that Cas can’t be found right now, it was absolutely killing him. He sipped his water, and as he listened. "I don't think we should summon him though. If we know Cas, he's probably doing something important in Heaven." Sam gave him a small smile, trying to reassure him. "I know with everything that happened last night, that you-"

"Dont Sammy." Dean cut him off, his voice was so deep from sleep and hoarse from dehydration. He didn't mean for it to sound agitated, but it really came off that way.   
Sam gave him a sad look, his eyes went glassy as he leaned forward more. "I'm so, so sorry Dean, I really am. I-"  
"I said quit it, Sam." Dean warned. "I don't need to talk about it alright? I also don't need to talk about him either. I'm fine, really, I'm fine."   
Sam just stared at him for a moment, before letting his gaze fall to the ground. With a sigh, Sam got up from the bed and moved to the kitchen table and opened his laptop.

Dean stared at his glass of water, feeling the tears fill his eyes but not fall. He felt sick all over again, it was becoming unbearable feeling like this, he gripped his glass tightly, trying to think of something else to stop him from crying when Sam's voice was heard. 

"I can't find much on... the guy." Sam's eyes flicked to his briefly, before back down to his laptop.”There’s nothing in dads journal,” He paused. "but I found this article from December 16th, 1991." Sam shifted, clearing his throat once more. 

"This guy, no one knows who he works for but he was reportedly sighted at the scene of a devastating car accident. They believe he's been on the run since, but." Sam scratched his brow and he continued to read the article. "Apparently, most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the 'Winter Soldier'?" Sam said, tilting his head and emphasising the last words.  

A name, at least. Dean thought.  
"Anyway, he's credited over two dozen assassinations..." He trailed off. Dean watched Sam's eyes grow wide as he sat back in his seat, looking completely shocked. "In the last 50 years."    
Dean's eyes snapped up. "What?" Dean felt so confused. Sam looked at him shrugging his shoulders as Dean got out of bed once more, walking to stand by Sam and lean down to look at the article Sam had up on his laptop. 

Dean skimmed the page, reading quickly, as much as he could as he tried to piece together how someone who looked no older than 30 had been assassinating for 50 years. Then he saw a picture at the bottom of the page. Dean took a step back, his body hit with fear as he looked at the grainy black and white picture from some security camera. It was him. His metal arm, the red star, the brown hair, those dark eyes. They stared into him, even though it was a picture, Dean could feel him on him.  _ Inside him _ . This time, he really felt sick, he clasped at his throat as he felt his stomach churn. "Dean, you alright?" Sam said, twisting in his seat as he looked up at him with worry. Dean didn't say a word as he stalked to the bathroom, dropping to his knees around the toilet and heaving up the water he just drank. The sickness leaving his body as he vomited, his back arching, his stomach cramping as he vomited. Tears formed and ran down his cheeks as he threw up so hard. 

He spit into the bowl one last time before flushing the toilet. Moving slowly to the sink, he washed his mouth out. He held onto the basin, looking up at himself. Tired. So tired and worn out. He had dark eye circles and was in desperate need of a shave. His hair was clean though at least.

While he felt better, he still felt so damn sick. 

He breathed deeply staring into himself, frowning as he thought of Cas. Noticing the tear streaks on his cheeks, and the flushed redness in his face. He looked horrible. He thought of him. He pictured him smiling at him, his eyes crinkling as he laughed at something he said. He thought of his soft, large hands. He thought of hugging him and holding him close. He thought of the way he smelt. He kept breathing deeply as deep blue filled his mind. He shut his eyes and pictured the colour of Cas' eyes. The ocean blue of them, he thought of how gorgeous they were, he simply smiled as he pictured him and the blue that wrapped his thoughts.

He felt better, and he felt himself relax. He gave himself one more moment before walking back out the bathroom door to find Sam at the front door, keys in hand. He turned back to look at him. "I'm going to find him." Sam said simply. "I want you to rest, stay here and recover." Sam said, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. "Sam, really? You want me to stay here and do nothing?" Dean approached him. "C'mon man, I'm fine. We can do it together. I don't need to rest." Sam gave him a look before raising his eyebrows. "You're staying here. Please, Dean." Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just for a couple of days, or even less if I get to him sooner. It doesn't have to burden you anymore then it already has." Sam said, clapping his hand on Dean's shoulder and giving him a small smile. "I'll be back in a few hours. Call Bobby if anything, anything Dean. Happens, alright? I'll have my emergency phone on me too." With that, before Dean could speak, Sam was out the door. 

Dean walked to the window and watched as Sam pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Dean sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the clock. It was 3:01pm. Dean felt shocked, he didn't even realize he'd slept half the day and then some. 

He walked back to his bed, pausing halfway and glancing at the TV then at the laptop at the kitchen table. He chewed his lip. Hesitated, scratched his wrist and took a slow step towards the laptop. He sat down, looking over the page with caution. He still felt a little sick, he didn't want to vomit again. 

He scrolled through the page, rereading it 5 times over. Looking at the picture, he studied it. He looked over the grainy picture, trying to look at every detail possible. 

"Winter Soldier, what a stupid name." He mumbled to himself as he shut the laptop and leaned back in the seat. He could feel his stomach begin to churn once more, so he got out of the seat and walked back to his bed. He lay down, and stared up at the ceiling. He was so over feeling sick, so over feeling ashamed. He felt his emotions coming back, god he was a wreck. All he wanted was Cas. He never felt want like this before ever in his life, and he needed Cas so much more than ever. 

He closed his eyes as he thought of the beautiful blue of his eyes again. He pictured the ocean, waves and his jacket. He pictured Cas' lips as he smiled, even as he pouted. He pictured kissing him, pulling his hair as he brushed his lips over his neck. He could almost feel him on his lips as he imagined Cas moan softly. He felt his cock stir in his pants and instantly opened his eyes as a small trickle of panic ran through his veins. Thats the last thing he wants, to get hard. To be turned on. With a sharp breath, he closed his eyes one more time. This time, moving his thoughts back to the colour blue once more. It didn't take him long before he was drifting again, feeling so tired anyway, he didn't mind letting himself sleep after the events of yesterday. He felt himself slip into sleep, while everything was blue.

When Dean woke up, the whole hotel room was dark. The window curtains were still pulled apart, so there was a little glow of street light seeping in the room. The little red light of the TV was just a small dot in the blackness. He rubbed his eyes, slowly waking up. He rolled over to the side of the bed, reaching out for his mobile phone. He clicked the 'home' button on the screen and it read 9:37pm. He didn't even feel shocked, around 6 hours sleep was a pretty decent nap, but he didn't feel well rested at all.

He rolled back onto his back, flinching a tiny bit as his muscles still ached and pulled. His stomach actually growled, and that's when he realized he hasn't eaten for over 12 hours, and he'd vomited. Now would be a good time to try and eat, even if the idea didn't appeal him at all. But maybe this'd be a chance to get some kind of energy boost.

As he slowly got out of bed, he didn't bother turning the lights on as his eyes adjusted to the darkness while he walked to the kitchen. He passed the TV that was between the ends of their beds, past the kitchen table and into the kitchen. He pulled the small hotel fridge open and squinted at the bright light that flooded the room. He bent down and saw a wrapped up sandwich that Sam had obviously bought at the Gas station. With a reluctant sigh, he grabbed the sandwich as well as a bottle of some kind of lemon drink that clearly belonged to Sam too. It had 'no added sugar' and 'diet' written all over it as he looked the bottle over. "Christ Sammy, you gotta live a'little." He mumbled to himself as he turned around, kicked the fridge door shut with his ankle and faced towards the beds.

Just as the glow of the fridge door shut, he saw the tiniest glint of silver shine in the back left corner in the arm chair next to Dean's bed. He snapped his eyes straight into the darkness, backing up into the fridge with a thud as he dropped the sandwich and drink to the floor, reaching a hand around for the fridge door to open it again but fumbling as horrible panic ran through him, pumping adrenaline through his veins and making his hands shaky.

He could hear nothing but his panicked breath, no noise as he stared at the corner, not seeing a damn thing until another sliver of movement and silvery reflections of light moved once more. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think as sheer terror entered his body as he still heard nothing. He tried to get this thoughts together, like where the nearest gun was, but he couldn't focus, his eyes locked onto the corner waiting for another shine of silver.

The lights. The light switch was on the wall to the right of him. He could do this, a couple of steps and he can flick the light on. He felt himself breathing hard as he tried to conjure up the courage, the down right bravery to move. It took everything in him to move, but when he did, he leaped across the room. He stumbled into the wall, flicking the switch on suddenly, his eyes not leaving the corner as dim light lit up the room.

Dean nearly screamed as he saw him. He clutched at his mouth as he looked into the dark eyes staring at him silently across the room. He held onto the wall, trying to breathe evenly. He wanted to run, but his feet wouldn't move, he wanted to speak but he couldn't find his voice. The man just stood there, staring at him expressionless. Dean felt his legs go numb as he stood there, moments passed as they did nothing but stare at each other. 

The man was still wearing the same black leather clothing, his metal arm hanging out the left side. His hair was messy, falling around his face. He looked exactly the same. Dean couldn't believe his eyes, and he was absolutely terrified. Dean never thought he could ever be scared of another person before, all things considered for his occupation. But this man, struck pure terror inside of Dean. 

Before Dean could think of where the nearest weapon was, the man slowly made his way to him. Dean let go of the wall, raising his hands as he stumbled backwards into the open kitchen. "No, no, leave me alone!" His voice was shaky, the fear rattling him to the core. But the man kept coming, his face turned downward as he stared into Dean's eyes and he gained on him. Dean kept backing up, reaching behind him for the counter as he bumped into the wooden bench top digging into his backside. "P-please, don't come near me!" He felt himself curl in on himself as he couldn't escape, he tucked into the bench, trying to move away as the man closed the distance and stood nearly centimeters away. 

Dean turned his face to the side as he squinted at the man, fear written all over his face as the man stared at him. He leaned backwards slightly as the man leaned down, placing his real and metal hand on both sides of him, face so damn close to Dean's. Dean shivered, he felt like a defenseless animal about to be eaten alive. His heart was beating so fast in his chest. 

He felt his stomach cramp as the man finally spoke. "I told you I'd see you again."  
Dean only clenched his jaw, not knowing how to respond. "Just kill me already." Dean said, finding his voice. The man smirked on one side of his mouth as he looked at Dean's face all over. "Oh, Dean. I told you. I'm not here to kill you."   
"Then why are you her-" Dean spoke before he realized. His face dropped. "N-no." He said, shaking his head slightly.  
"Oh yes." The man's smile grew. "I didn't finish my mission last time. So i'm here to finish it now." Dean watched the man take his bottom lip into his mouth, before running his tongue over it. "I know who you are, you won't get away with this." Dean tried to raise his voice, he tried not to act so damn terrified, but faltered on the last word when his voice broke.

The man's lips pulled into a small smirk, and Dean felt himself shudder at the familiarity of it. "And who am I?" His voice was deep. Dean said nothing, swallowing as he realized just how stupid he sounded. "Didnt think so." The man placed a hand around Dean's waist. 

"Please, don't do this." Dean whispered as the man ran his metal fingers down Dean's arm before gripping his wrist. "I'll give you whatever you want. Just-just not this," Dean continued, a tear falling down his cheek. The man pressed himself closer to Dean, snaking his real arm around his lower back and pulling him close. "I-I won't come after you," A metal hand played with the waistband of Dean's sweat pants, the man's lips found Dean's neck and gently graced his skin. Dean let the man move around him, he was utterly terrified. Another tear fell. "Please-" Metal fingers hooked around his waist band and began to slide them down. Dean let his tears fall completely as he stood there, letting the man pull his pants down slowly with his underwear too. He didn't sob, but he silently cried.

When his pants hit the floor, the man reached his metal hand up to Dean's face. He wiped a tear just over Dean's cheek bone. Dean just stared straight ahead, pursing his lips and feeling disgust fill him.   
"You cry, but you won't fight back." The man said, pausing as he swiped his lips over Dean's earlobe.  
"There's no point." Dean stated, his voice shaky. "If you do this. If I do this-" Dean snapped his head around to face him. Staring into those ice blue eyes. "Will you leave me alone?" Their faces were so close, they almost bumped noses. The man gripped Dean's jaw holding him in place. It hurt, but Dean didn't let it show. The man regarded him, Dean could see him thinking as he studied Dean's face. "Even if I wanted to.." The man's voice was low again as he let go of his face to stand before him, pressing Dean's bare groin to his and giving a slight roll against him. "I won’t want to stay away from you, Dean." Dean shivered, feeling himself fill with helplessness.    
"Then I'll kill you." Dean said, feeling the man's growing hardness against his own cock. The man let out a sharp hiss, "You can try." It was gravelly, full of warning. Before Dean could speak again, the man had both of Dean's legs hoisted up around his hips and he had placed him on the bench top.

Dean didn't even think as he automatically gripped onto the man's shoulders, letting himself be picked up. His stomach fluttered, and he immediately pushed it down as he felt shock and fear rise up. The man pushed him down to lay flat on his back. He let out a small huff as his back hit the wooden bench top. He felt his airway block for a moment, feeling the sad lump rise up in his throat as he watched the man between his legs. He was leaning over him, running his hands down Dean's sides. "You don't have to do this!" Dean tried one more time, feeling the need to close his legs, feeling the tears rise in his eyes. He wanted to run but was scared, he didn't even know if he  _ could _ run. Would he even get away?

He watched the man as he fished out his own hard cock, giving it a few pumps in his hand before pulling out a small bottle of what appeared to be lube and pouring it over his glistening dick. Dean could barely see through the well of tears, he just lay there, letting the sickness take over him. The man was a mere dark mass between his legs. He closed his eyes.

Dean let out a small sound as the man's finger entered him. He felt them curl inside him, moving in and out, spreading lube inside him. Dean whimpered as the man entered another finger. "Stop, please-plea-ah-" Dean's voice caught in his throat as the man pushed his fingers in deep. The small spike of pleasure rolling up inside him briefly. He shut his mouth, trying to breathe evenly.

"You're still ready for me." The man said above him, sliding his fingers out slowly. 

Dean opened his eyes, lifted his head as he looked down between his legs. Oh no. No. He couldn't believe it, he stared down at his own cock standing at full attention and bouncing on his stomach. He bit his lip, letting his head fall down against the bench top.

He pressed his lips into a tight line as he tried not to make a sound as he felt the man's own cock at Dean's hole. With one, slow, time stopping push, the man's entire length was buried deep inside him. Dean bit back a cry, a hand coming up to his mouth as he felt himself stretch around it, his other hand coming to grip his own shirt tightly.   
  


When the man began to fuck, it was slow and rhythmic. The man placed his hands on Dean's hips, holding onto him tightly. His metal fingers digging into Dean’s hip bone, he couldn't help but noticed the sound of the plates settling, the noises freaked him out so much. Dean shut his eyes again, trying to find somewhere in his mind to go. To  _ escape _ . When Dean felt the all too familiar rise of pleasure with every thrust of the man's thick cock inside him, he couldn't control the small noise that escaped his lips. 

It was good. It was  _ so good _ . The man was right, Dean was still ready since yesterday. His hole merely fluttered around the hard cock inside him, his cock bounced with every pulse of pleasure that burst inside him when the man's cock hit the spark deep inside him. He slightly arched his back as the man fucked him, long and quick now. He could feel his body relaxing, he could feel himself reacting to the pleasure, to the thrill. But, at the pit of his stomach was absolute shame. Despair. He felt filthy, he felt nothing but utter disgust as he moaned, letting his head roll back as he moaned again, biting his lip when the man fucked into him. He clutched at his shirt even tighter as he felt the pleasure rising, he moved his hand from his face to wrap around his own cock as he began to pump his swollen cock. The pleasure inside him multiplied, and he grunted when the man pulled Dean's hips back into his cock so hard, he felt like he was going to come instantly. 

When he moaned a long, drawn out desperate noise, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. When he did, his eyes locked onto those piercing ice blue eyes that were hungrily staring down at him. The man's hair was falling around his face, his mouth was open as he fucked into him. Dean let his mouth fall open as he stared up at him, lost in the blinding  _ fuckyesfeelssofuckinggood _ as he watched the man lean down and grip Dean's hair and pull him into a hot, wet kiss. 

Dean didn't even care, his mind was concentrating on the pleasure inside him, he was concentrating on his cock throbbing, begging to come as he let the man's tongue find its way inside Dean's mouth. His tongue flicked inside his mouth, he sucked on Dean's lower lip as he withdrew the kiss and Dean found himself moving with him as he pulled away. He didn't even think, didn't even know he was speaking until the man smiled down at him. "Your name," Dean moaned. "What's your name." Feeling the man slide his cock deep inside him, slapping his ass with every thrust was beginning to make Dean's orgasm grow to near breaking point.

The man's jaw clenched, the smile leaving his face as his eyes hooded. With a flared nose, he began to fuck mercilessly into him. The pleasure was so intense, he felt his cock throb once, twice before he wrapped his hand around it once more and pumped in time with the man fucking into him. 

Dean let out a long, drawn out, breathy moan as he came. His cock spurting thick lines of come on his chest as the orgasm rolled through his body. The man above him grunted, then let out a shuddering breath as he felt his cock pulse inside him, he came the same time as Dean. The man fell forward, moving to the side of Dean's neck as he breathed heavily into him, his hips snapping against him as he thrust his cock deep inside Dean as they both came hard.

Dean felt the trickle of lube and come leak out of his throbbing entrance as the man's cock pulsed inside him as they lay there, breathing hard and heavy as the man leant over him. 

Dean stayed silent, waiting, the aura of his orgasm still emanating through him.    


"Bucky." 

Dean's eyes fluttered as he looked at the man, he suddenly felt so damn tired all over again, the high of his orgasm still lingering. "What?" He said, still catching his breath.

"My name." The man lifted himself slowly, reaching down between their joined hips and pulled out his semi hard cock. Dean shuddered as he felt the hardness leave. "It's Bucky." The man moved backwards, tucking his dick inside his black pants before placing a metal hand on Dean's inner thigh and staring at him.

"I didnt.. I didnt ask for your na-" Oh. Dean bit his lip. He felt the come and lube leak out of his hole as he moved himself to sit up on his elbows. "Okay then, Bucky. Are we done now?" 

Bucky smirked down at him, his metal finger trailing down to Dean's hole. Dean flinched as his cold metal finger entered him once more, filling Dean with a rush of pleasure. Dean stilled, clenching his jaw.   
  


"We are. For now." Bucky said, withdrawing his finger and bringing it to Dean's come covered stomach and swiping it. Dean watched as he moved his metal finger to his mouth, covered with both of their come. He winked before opening his mouth and swirling his tongue around his finger, sucking the metal clean. "You and I taste real good." Dean's mouth dropped as he watched. "See you again soon, Dean." 

Bucky turned around and walked to the front door. His shoulders were set, his head was low as he walked away. Dean noticed that when he took a step, it was so quiet. This man, this.. Bucky. Didn't even make a sound as he shut the door and was just.. Gone. 

Dean was left on the counter top, completely fucked out. He was confused, scared, ashamed. He can't believe he just let it happen. He's Dean fucking Winchester and he just let that happen? He sat up, wrapping his hands around his head. So many thoughts were running through his mind, but the only thing that struck him the most, that made the pit of his stomach churn and cramp. Was not because he’d just been completely violated, twice within less than 24 hours. Or the fact that during this entire situation, he’d deep down, so deep down within himself found pleasure. Enjoyed it. No, that didn't make him feel as sick as the realization that someone else used him, fucked him, made him feel  _ damn right good. _ And it wasn't Cas.    
  
He sat there for a moment, before moving off the counter top. He pulled up his pants and took a step towards the bathroom when he glanced at the front door. He was gone. He knew he was, he just saw him leave. But was he really gone? Where did he go? Dean scratched the back of his head, he felt himself smile but he couldn't understand why. He continued to the bathroom, and laughed. He laughed as he opened the door and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He laughed so hard that he had to hold his stomach for a moment.  _ You’ve gone fucking crazy.  _ He said to himself.   
  
He felt his hole throb, and it sent a shiver up his spine. He closed his eyes and breathed in a deep breath, before opening his eyes once more and opening the mirrored cabinet. He pulled out some pain killers, knowing he’ll be sore tomorrow. He popped two in his mouth, before turning the tap on and drinking straight from it.   
  
After he cleaned himself up in the bathroom, letting tears fall out of his eyes for the 100th time. He heard the front door open. He stopped, looking up at the bathroom sink, where he was washing his face. He felt his heart stop. He felt panic and fear and god damn excitement rise inside him. He even stopped breathing as he waited, listening to footsteps approach the bathroom door.   
  
“No! No, please, no no no!” Dean moved away from the sink and backed up into the shower cubicle, feeling tears run down his face instantly. The door creaked open, and a tall familiar figure walked in. “Dean?” Sam’s smooth voice, worry was written all over his face as Dean stared at him though his tears. “S-Sam,” He breathed, collapsing to the shower floor, sliding down the wall as he began to sob. “What happened? Dean?” Sam was at him instantly, leaning down to hold his shoulder. “What happened!” He moved closer, sitting in front of him as he watched Dean cry, his chest heaving with every stuttering breath. “He-the man, the Winter-B-B, Bucky-” He was a wreck, his face was red, his lips were so puffy. He put his hands to his face as he cried into them. “Sam he, he-” Sam’s face fell into serious concern, his eyes twinkling. “Dean, hey it's okay. You’ll be alright,” Sam moved to Dean’s side in the shower, wrapping his arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “No!” Dean yelled, his voice breaking. “You don't understand, while you were gone, he-” He paused, stopping to clench his fists. Sam’s eyes grew wider, he looked at the floor with disbelief. “He didnt.. He didn't come here… Did he?” 

  
Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but feeling agony inside him. There was a war going on inside his head. He didn't understand what he was feeling, he didn't understand any of this, why it happened to him in the first place. He felt weak. He felt pathetic. He suddenly felt the urge to lie to Sam, to tell him he was infact, okay. Nothing happened. He suddenly felt like maybe if Sam didn't know, he wouldn't look like such a weak human being. Dean was lost in his thoughts when Sam’s voice snapped him out of it. “Dean, what happened while I was gone?”  
Dean turned to look at him briefly, wiping his eyes and swallowing hard. “Uhm.” It was gritty. “N-nothing. I just freaked out, that’s all.” Dean lied. Feeling absolutely fucking horrible the minute he said it. He focussed on the tile flooring in front of him. He didn't know if Sam bought it, but he remained silent for a moment. Sam eyed him. God, Dean hated it when Sam looked at him like this. So worried, so scared. It made Dean feel even worse that his little brother, who looked up to him since they were kids, can't even look up to him anymore because of what Dean has become. He didn't deserve someone like Sam to look up to him, not when he was utterly ashamed of the events that just occurred. How could anyone look up to someone as filthy as he now was.  
“Dean, if something happened, you have to tell me.” Sam paused again. “Please,”  
Dean just shook his head, letting out a small shuddering sigh. Feigning a weak smile he coughed, “I’m okay Sammy, I just got paranoid, that’s all.” He patted Sam on the hand once before he moved to stand up.   
  
As he stood, Sam followed suit. He said nothing as they exited the bathroom and entered the main living space. Dean didn't say a word as he got into his bed, pulled the covers up and shut his sore, stinging eyes. He heard Sam shuffle around before switching the lights off and jumping into his bed as well.   
  
Nothing was said for a few minutes as Dean lay there, not crying anymore and thanking God for it. He didn't feel overly tired, but his eyes were so sore as he felt his body warm up under the covers. The hunger he felt before, was now totally gone.  
“I didn't find anything on him tonight anyway.” Sam’s calm voice. Dean flinched a little as he listened. “I’m sorry. I will though. I will get him for what he’s done, Dean.”  
 _Oh Sam_. Dean thought. _If only you knew._ Dean’s voice was husky when he finally spoke. “I know, Sammy.”   
“I’m going out again tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone until the next day.” Sam stated, hearing him sigh before speaking again. “Will you be okay without me?” There it was, the underlying worry and concern. All Dean would have to say is ‘No’ and Sam would stay right by his side, and Dean knew it too.   
  
Oh, but that wasn't what he wanted, was it? Dean felt butterflies rise in his stomach, before the guilt washed over him again. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” He only half lied. “I know who to call if I need help.” Dean tucked himself tighter in the covers.   
He heard Sam sigh again then listened to silence. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes as Dean felt himself relax, his body beginning to tire.  
“Dean?” Sam’s small voice.  
“Yeah Sammy,” He sniffed, his voice even gravelly than before as sleep crept its way into his mind.  
A pause. “Who’s.. Who’s Bucky?”   
Dean’s eyes blinked open so fast, he felt his body almost convulse with adrenaline as thoughts of what just happened over an hour ago flashed into his mind. Flashes of _Bucky_ ’s darkly shadowed, ice blue eyes staring at him as he fucked him hard. His metal fingers digging into his hip as he gripped him, pulled him back onto his cock. Himself moaning at the memory of the best fucking orgasm he’s had in awhile while this long haired man fucked him hard. He felt his cock twitch at the thought, before he swallowed the memory down.  
“I don't know. I’m tired anyway Sam, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dean said, tucking his covers closer to his cheek as he rolled onto his side.   
Sam was quiet, real fucking quiet. When he finally spoke, relief washing over Dean. “Okay, goodnight.” He could hear the tiredness in Sam’s voice, before he heard him yawn. Maybe he bought it? Sounded like it did.   
  
With one last sigh, Dean pressed his hands together, laced his fingers and closed his eyes once more. He imagined himself putting all of the night's events in a small wooden box, locking it with a key and throwing it into a pitch black hole. Then, he thought of blue. Deep, ocean, rich blue. Black hair. Tan trenchcoat. He felt his heart flutter. Cas.   
  
_“I needed you again tonight, Cas. You keep letting me down, man. Why? Where are you? When you find out what happens, which I know you will. You’ll never forgive me. But guess what? I’ll never forgive you for this, Cas. This is your last chance. I need you. I need you so bad. Please, just come to me. I need you. I need you..”_  
  
He fell asleep. Imagining an ocean. The rich blue was vibrant against a setting sun. This time, the waves were full of chunks of ice. Large chunks moving with every wave as they moved closer and closer to shore. The ice was piercing, pale blue with specks of white. Glinting in the sun as the deep blue water pushed them closer to the sand. It was the most beautiful contrast Dean’s ever imagined.


	3. Everything Is Grey

When Dean woke that morning, the sunlight was seeping through the window. The curtains were pulled apart, so the sunlight lit up the whole room. Dean slowly opened his eyes, realizing he was laying on his stomach. He yawned, blinking his eyes as he rolled over to lay on his back. He moved slowly, feeling the sore throb of his arse as he sat up. With a slight hiss, he managed to sit still as he rested up against his pillows.    
  
He leaned over and grabbed his phone. When he pressed the button, he saw the time. 8:09am. He yawned as he realized he had a message from Sam.    
“ _ I’ve already left, sorry I didn't say goodbye but you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you. I’ve left you breakfast on the table and some orange juice in the fridge. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need, or call Bobby if anything happens. -Sam _ ”   
Dean smiled, of course Sam left food and orange juice for him. He figures he went to the gas station before he left and brang back some food. Dean smiled at his phone, before giving him a quick thank you as a reply, then putting his phone on charge and setting it down on the bedside table.   
  
It hit him. Hard. He didn't feel like crying, at least. But all the other emotions fell in his stomach. He shook his head, imagining the small wooden box with all the events in it. He breathed deeply as he got out of bed. He walked to the bathroom first. When he was finished, he went to the kitchen table. He saw a ham and cheese sandwich, the newspaper and a disgustingly healthy looking fruit bar. Dean actually felt his stomach rumble as he moved to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice.   
  
As he sat down, he placed the glass on the table and began to open the sandwich as he pulled the newspaper open. As he began to eat, he started to feel more awake, and he was beginning to feel good. His stomach was filling, and he was feeling so much better already as he continued to eat and read.   
  
There was nothing in the newspaper of real interest. He checked for small local cases, maybe there was something he could do to get his mind off everything, not that Sam would want him to leave. Not that Sam would know, but that’s just another lie to tell, and Dean wasnt keen on that idea. With a sigh, he continued looking through the paper.    
  
He felt his eyes scanning, he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he didn't want to even admit it to himself. His stomach dropped when he saw a headline ‘Person Mysteriously Shot in Parking Lot’ He scanned his eyes over every single word, but he didn't see the words he was looking for. Was he not only disgusted in himself for reacting to what happened the past two days, for his body giving in. But now he was officially looking for this guy, but with butterflies in his stomach? He was sick. He had to be? He wanted to see the words written down, he wanted to see that the world knew of this guy still being around.  _ The Winter Soldier _ . Dean replayed the words in his mind. It doesn't even make sense. What is a Winter Soldier?    
  
Then he thought of when he asked his actual name. He continued to finish his sandwich, sipping his orange juice as he remembered the way he looked at him when he asked. How his expression went dark, how he didn't answer him at first. Then when he did, how breathless he was.    
  
He then realized there’s one big question remaining. Why Dean? Why was he doing this? Was it only about fucking him, then leaving him? Why? Dean felt himself become so irritated, he couldn't sit still as he finished the last of his sandwich. He downed his orange juice, before he stood up and walked over to the bathroom. He decided in that moment that he should probably shower.  _ What the fuck am I going to do _ . He said to himself as he entered the bathroom. Changing out of his pants and shirt, then entering the warm stream of the shower.   
  
When it came to cleaning himself, he took extra care. He washed with sensitivity, as he was so sore. He felt the soap sting his hole as he rinsed it under the soft stream of water. Once he was done, he dried himself off, feeling fresh and clean. He felt better, actually. That brightened his mood, considering. He walked out, his skin still steaming as he reached in the drawer for a clean shirt and jeans. He got dressed, letting his hair air dry as he sat down on his bed, running the towel through his hair when he heard a knock at the door.    
  
He stopped, eyes widening as he stared at the front door. He felt fear rush through his veins, almost stinging his nerves as he slowly rose from his bed, dropping the towel and quickly picking up his phone and putting it in his pocket. As he walked slowly to the front door, he passed the TV stand which had a handgun sitting in the shelf, hidden by books and magazines. He cocked the gun, and walked towards the door slowly as he heard the door knock softly twice more.   
  
As he approached the door, he graced his fingers over the door knob, peering out the small peep hole. He looked around, squinting as he tried to see if anyone was there. When he saw there was absolutely no one, he felt an eerie feeling wash over him. He counted to three, took a deep breath, gripped the door handle and swung the door open as quickly as he could, bringing the gun up and taking a careful step outside.    
  
No one was there. There was no sign of anyone. There was a gentle breeze that rolled by which rustled a bush, causing Dean to glance there briefly. He lowered his gun. Maybe he’s just hearing things. He gave a quick glance around, feeling caution still as he stepped back inside, locking the door and put the metal chain across the door for extra precaution. He rested his forehead on the door, closing his eyes as he gripped the gun tightly.  _ Get yourself together.  _ He breathed, slowly trying to stow the fear in his veins.   
  
Just as he was to turn around, he was pushed up against the door, a metal hand snaking its why to cover his mouth.   
Dean wanted to scream the second it happened. His heart kicked into high gear as terror spiked his skin. He knew instantly who it was. Bucky’s hand gripped the gun out of Dean’s hand, opened the barrel and dropped the bullets out to the ground and threw it to the ground.   
“Shh Dean.” His voice was like honey, dripping with grit as he whispered. He gripped his hair, pulling Dean to face him before thrusting him hard against the door. He gripped Dean’s wrists in his metal hand pulling them high above his head before leaning close.   
  
Dean writhed against the door, he tried to move his wrists but Bucky’s metal fingers just dug deeper in his hands. His eyes were filled with fear as Bucky put his real hand over his mouth, he grunted as Bucky put a knee between his legs, pressing their hips together and stilling Dean. “Stop trying to fight.” Is all Bucky said, as he watched him snake his hand down from his mouth down to his own chest and to his stomach. Only to move to his own hip and down to the knife holstered on his thigh. Dean steadied his heaving breath as he watched Bucky pull the knife up, flipping it twice then holding it to his neck. Dean stared into his eyes. Bucky’s hair was looking dirty, he had scuff marks on his face, was it dirt? Blood? Dean couldn't tell. But the small smile on Bucky’s lips brang him back to reality. “I need something from you.” He said, pressing the knife sharply into his throat.   
  
Dean swallowed, feeling the blade stinging his skin a little. “Haven't you taken enough?” Dean’s voice was deep. Bucky pressed the knife harder, Dean could swear he’d broken the skin when a sharp sting of pain ran up his neck. He hissed, “Ah! What do you want!”    
Bucky looked all over Dean’s face, looking at his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw. Bucky was studying him. “The book you carry, I want it.”   
“Yeah, not happening.” Dean muttered, giving a test pull on his wrists one more time. “Now will you please, just leave?”    
Bucky moved the knife slowly, bringing the point to rest on his adam’s apple. “I’m not joking Dean. Where is it?”    
Dean huffed, feeling the knife’s point digging into his flesh. “It doesn't matter where it is! You’re not having it.” Dean yelled, feeling the knife nick his skin as he moved his neck. He let out another hiss as he felt the scratch.   
“You have two days.” Bucky squared himself in front of him. “Two.”    
Dean stayed silent for a moment. “You’re.. you’re telling me you won't see me for the next two days?”   
Bucky nodded slowly, gripping the knife tighter in his hand before trailing it down to Dean’s collarbone.   
“Well I’ve got something to tell you.” Dean felt his ego rise. “In two days? You will be dead.” Dean put emphasis on the last word he spoke, feeling his eyes squint as he stared at Bucky with the most filth ridden expression he could muster.   
He watched Bucky’s face fall briefly, his movement paused as he blinked at Dean. His brows furrowing, before he pulled the side of his bottom lip in his mouth for a second. He flipped the knife again, staring at Dean, and put it back into the holster. He released Dean’s hands and stepped away slowly, dropping his head as he backed up a few paces, never leaving Dean’s eyes.   
  
Dean gripped his aching wrists instantly, feeling relief. He stared at Bucky, feeling a little panicky at the situation. He stayed by the door, not knowing what to do. He watched as Bucky stood before him. His hands balling into fists as he tilted his head slightly.   
“While you’ve got the chance,” Bucky’s voice was quiet, “Why not try killing me now?” He rolled his shoulders back once. Dean paused, frowning while he processed what Bucky just said. He bit the inside of his cheek as he realized, he could definitely try to kill him now. That’s when Bucky reached back in his belt, pulled out a gun. Checked to see if there were any bullets in the barrel, nodding once before throwing it on the ground before Dean’s feet. “Go ahead.” His voice was level, not mocking. “Pick it up.” It sounded almost like an order.   
  
Dean stared at the black handgun on the floor, flickering his eyes up to look at Bucky who was standing still, hands by his side as he watched him from behind his dark brown hair. “Do it.”   
Dean hesitated, then feeling his blood fill with adrenaline, he reached down quickly. Cocking the gun and walking directly towards Bucky and raising the gun so the barrel was level with his forehead. Bucky didn't even flinch as happened. Dean felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he stared at him, noticing how calm and cool he was. His expression was blank, except for the twinkle Dean noticed in his eyes.   
  
Dean paused, the time stopping him around him. He frowned, why wasn't he pulling the trigger? His finger was on it, it was itching to be pressed. Yet, here he was. Standing, the person he’d love to kill the most, offering to be killed and he can't do it?   
  
“Damn it!” Dean yelled as he gripped the gun tightly in his fingers, bringing the gun to Bucky’s temple as he moved closer. Bucky merely closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head along with the press of the gun, taking a small breath as he side glanced at Dean under dark lashes. But Dean just stared back at him, feeling the tears fall out of his eyes.  _ What the fuck is wrong with him. Just pull the fucking trigger! Problem solved! Case closed! _   
  
But there it was again. That glimmer, that extra shine in Bucky’s eyes. Dean stilled his breathing as he looked at Bucky through watery eyes. He felt his face fall in realization. The shine in his eyes? Bucky had tears on the brink of falling. “Thing is Dean…” Bucky’s voice was still level. “I’m already dead.” But there it was, a single tear fell out of his eye.   
  
Dean watched as Bucky stayed right where he was. They stared at each other, neither of them moving. “Why should I let you live, after what you did to me?” Dean’s voice faltered a little. “You don't deserve to live.”    
“No I don't. So just kill me.”   
Dean pressed the gun harder, squinting as he felt his trigger finger twitch.    
Nothing.   
Dean growled, “Why did you do this to me!”    
Bucky smiled a small, barely there smile as his eyes grew distant. “You were my mission.”    
Dean shook his head in confusion. “Mission?”   
Bucky nodded slightly. “My own mission, of course. I wasn't told specifically to go after you… exactly.” Dean felt anger flare up in his stomach, feeling more confident by the second. “So why? Why did you go after me?”   
Bucky’s eyes shut for a moment, then opened. Looking straight into Dean’s eyes. Sorrow, devastation written on his face. “You remind me of someone.” Bucky clenched his jaw. “So you goin’ to kill me, or what Winchester?”    
He watched Bucky’s face fall. Did he really feel bad for him right now? There is something seriously wrong with him. How can he feel bad for him after what he’s done?    
Dean slowly lowered the gun. Feeling his shoulders go lax, he dropped the gun to the floor. Hearing it bounce once. “No. I’m not going to kill you.” Bucky watched him. “But one day-” Dean moved closer, getting so close to Bucky’s face. “You will get what’s coming to you.” Dean said through his flaring anger. “Whether it be death or karma, I hope it’s fucking bad.” Dean growled.   
Bucky nodded once more. He looked like a child who’d just been scolded. “I just.. I just have one last thing-” Bucky’s eyes trailed over Dean’s face.   
Dean waited, watching Bucky. Watching as he looked like he could cry.    
  
Oh, but what an idiot he was. Within a second, a metal fist hit the side of Dean’s cheek. He fell on his side onto the floor with a thud. He gripped his face, pain searing through him as he grunted. He watched Bucky squat next to him, pulling his shoulder back and pulling him close by his shirt. Bucky had a smirk on his lips as he looked upon Dean’s face. He could feel a small trickle of blood seeping down his cheek from a cut that split his skin from the impact of sharp metal slicing into him. He was in unbearable pain.    
“Don't think you’ll ever have the upper hand, Winchester.” Bucky stated. “If I decide I want you? I’ll have you.” He leaned closer. “Hey, hey-” He pulled Dean even closer, so Dean was pressing into his chest. Dean’s hands fell on his thighs as he felt blood pool in his mouth. Great, he’d bitten the inside of his cheek too. “Do you understand?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed.    
“Ngh-fuh, fuck you.” Dean blurted out as he lazily stared up at him.    
Bucky smiled, pulling his bottom lip in his mouth as he glanced around the room as is he was humored. Suddenly, another metal fist hit his jaw with a loud pop. Fiery pain scorched his face. He spat out blood when his face twisted to the side with the punch, but Bucky still pulled him closer once more.   
“You know what’s even funnier than your wit, Dean?”    
“Oh, what’s that?” Dean slurred smugly. He didn't feel anything but pain and adrenaline, his vision became blurry as moments passed. He wasn't sure what he was even saying, it was now reflex.

Bucky pulled Dean by his shirt to his lips, kissing him. He sucked on Dean’s bottom lip as he licked inside his mouth. It was not what Dean was expecting, but he didn't feel like he had the strength to resist, or fight. He let Bucky’s tongue move with his in his mouth, then Bucky pulled away. Dean looked at his lips, realizing he had a smear of blood on his top lip. He watched with heavy eyes as Bucky licked his top lip, tasting the blood in his mouth for a moment then smiling down at him.   
“You know the gun you just held to my head?” He paused. “There wasn't a single bullet in it to kill me with.” Bucky shoved him to the ground, throwing one more punch to his face before rising. Dean felt his throat tighten as he listened to his footsteps walking away. “Two days!” His voice boomed as he left. Dean just layed on the floor, he didn't even hear Bucky open a door when he realized he was finally alone again.    
  
He felt dazed, sore and the adrenaline was beginning to make his body shake. He reached in his pocket, pulling out his phone as he scrolled down to  _ Sam. _ __   
He pressed his name, and watched his phone began the call. He put it on speaker as he closed his eyes, listening to the phone ring. He was beginning to lose consciousness. He could feel the black out around the edges of his eyes.   
“Hello? Dean?” Sam’s concerned voice.   
Dean grunted, “Sammy. Need to.. need-, come back.” He slurred, feeling sleep roll over him quickly.   
“On my way.” Is all he heard before the end tone. He dropped the phone from his hand as he drifted off to sleep on the scratchy floor, his mouth still filling with blood. His cheek still oozing blood and dropping into the carpet.   
  
This time when he drifted, he saw thunderous clouds on a stormy ocean. The waves were crashing, rising high and splashing together as the thunder boomed, lightning flickered in the dark grey sky. The blue of the ocean was as rich as ever, but it was looking wild against the dark grey of the looming clouds. He couldn't focus on either the ocean or clouds. All he saw was the spray of the waves.   
  
__ Cas. Cas. Cas.


	4. Devoid Of Color

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was the white cracked ceiling of the hotel. He was somehow lying on his back as he squinted up at the cracks, trying to get his eyes to focus. He blinked a few times before he screwed his eyes shut, wincing as he tried to sit up, using his elbows to prop himself up. As he did, he realized he wasn't on the ground anymore.  _ Oh great, _ he thought,  _ I remember it all. _ _   
_ When he rose, he let out a sharp breath as he rubbed his face, a dull headache rising at the sides of his skull as he looked down, noticing he was wrapped up in his blankets in his bed.    
  
When he finally managed to get himself sitting up in his bed, moving to put his pillow behind his back to make it comfortable, he glanced towards the kitchen.   
  
_ Sammy. _ _   
_ _   
_ Relief washed over him as he let the rise of emotions bubble over. “S-Sam?” He called through a strained voice. Instantly, Sam was in view. He moved from the corner, holding a plate of food in one hand as he gave Dean a reassuring smile. “Hey,” He made his way to Dean’s bed, sitting on the side of it and putting the plate on the bedside table. “You’re up, that's good!” He smiled at him, concern written all over his soft features.   
  
Dean didn't even care about the headache, he didn't care about the tears streaming down his face, he didn't care about the blood in his mouth or the fact his stomach was twisting. He lunged for Sam, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders and holding onto him tight, burying his face in the crook of Sam’s neck. He cried. He let his voice carry the hurt, the fear. He let his tears soak his face, dripping onto Sam’s neck and shirt.    
  
Sam didn't move, he wrapped his arms around his brother instantly, pulling him close and holding on to him. He held onto him for dear life, his hands gripped Dean’s back and held him while he cried. He was warm, and he felt every little piece of home and reassurance wash over him as he breathed in Sam’s familiar scent.    
  
They stayed like that for minutes. Sam said nothing, except the occasional ‘It’s alright’ or ‘It’s okay’. He just held him, and that's all Dean needed.   
  
When Dean finally spoke, his crying had slowed. He pulled away from Sam, gripping onto his forearm as he sat back in his bed, leaning against the propped up pillow as he pulled Sam to sit closer, not once letting go of his wrist. Sam moved closer, gripping Dean’s hand over his wrist and tracing small patterns on the back of his hand with his fingers as he watched him, waiting for him to say something and not pushing it. Dean knew he was waiting for an explanation, but he knew he wouldn't ask. He knew Sam would just wait, let him tell him what happened when he felt ready.   
“It was hi-him.” Dean’s voice was shaky, he let his eyes fall to the ground. Sam nodded slowly, pursuing his lips as he listened. “I know, Dean.”   
“He’ll come back.” Dean said, his urgency seeping into the words.   
Sam nodded again, lacing his fingers in Dean’s. “I know.”    
Dean looked up at Sam, and saw Sam’s features falter. His eyes were so sad, so tired. He looked disappointed. “Sam.. I need him-” Dean choked, eyes filling with tears as he said it. “I need Cas,” His voice broke as his tears fell. “Where is he!” He yelled, gripping the blanets with his other hand.    
Sam watched him, swallowing hard as he listened. “I don't know Dean..” He paused, “I’ve been praying to him everyday.”   
Dean shook his head. “He’s never gone this long before. Something must be wrong!” Dean said, his miserable sadness moved into anger. Sam shrugged, sighing. “I just don't know, Dean.”    
Nothing more was said as Dean let out a small cry, letting go of the blanets and Sam’s wrists to bring his hands to his face, crying hard into them. Sam sat silently beside him.   
  
When Sam spoke, he could hear the heart rending sadness in his words. “We have to leave this place,”   
Dean glanced up, wiping the tears from his eyes and looked at Sam who was looking at the ground. “And go where?”   
“Anywhere,” Sam’s voice rose a little. “Does it really matter where? Just as far away as possible.”   
Dean listened, sniffing. “We’ll go somewhere this ‘Winter Soldier’ won't be able to find you.” Sam said through gritted teeth. Dean took a shuddering breath, wiping his eyes again. “There’s no point, Sam.” He said weakly. “He’ll find me. He’ll always find me.”    
Sam looked up at him. “Not if I kill him.” He saw determination is his eyes, and it downright broke Dean’s heart. Dean felt himself shudder, his skin crawled. “It’s no use Sammy… You can't kill him.” Dean gripped his hair with his hands. “You won't kill him.”    
“Don't say that Dean!” Sam turned, facing him front on on the bed now. “Of course I will!”   
  
Dean looked over Sam’s face. He wanted to believe Sam, he wanted to say  _ yes, you will and we’ll be alright again.  _ But he knew. He knew he didn’t want the guy dead. He knew he didn't want him dead because  _ he didn't pull the trigger _ . He knew he didn't want him dead because  _ he made him feel good _ . He didn't want him dead because while Cas is gone,  _ he’s the only thing that has made him feel something _ , and that made him feel utterly revolting.    
  
“Look, Dean. We’ll either leave or I’ll wait for him here, and kill him myself.” Sam grabbed Dean’s cheek, wiping a tear with his thumb. “I am ready to do either one, you say the word.” Dean shut his eyes, letting small tears fall from his eyes as he rested his face in his brothers warm hand. “Just say what you want to do.” He said it with such kindness, Dean’s heart was swelling while his stomach was churning.   
“Sam.. I-, he’s..” Dean began, stuttering as he looked at his brother. Sam only tilted his head a little, waiting for Dean to finish. “I don't want to leave.” Dean confessed. “But I don't… I don't want you to kill him,” Dean grabbed Sam’s hand from his cheek and pulled it away. “You don't understand Sam..” He held onto Sam’s hand for a moment, before releasing it and tucking his own hands around his stomach.    
Sam gave him a confused look, but kept his tone soft. “No Dean, I don't understand,” His voice rose again. “You don't want me to kill him?”   
“What happened between Buc-” Dean cleared his throat. Shaking his head, “What happened between him and I.. I nearly killed him.” He confessed again. “I had a gun. The moment was there and my finger was ready to pull the trigger and I..- I, Sammy, I-” He smiled a distracted smile as he replayed it in his mind, tasting the blood in his mouth all over again, feeling the pain of the hits he took to his face. “I didn't pull the trigger. I just.. I-I didn't want too.” Dean was trembling as he spoke. Sam was so quiet, listening and unmoving. “There’s… He’s... “ Dean trailed off, pausing as he replayed everything in his mind. Ice blue eyes filling his thoughts. The smell of gunsmoke and a dark, musky cologne filling his memory. “His name is Bucky.” Dean laughed a small, incredulous laugh. Wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach, he glanced up at Sam who was looking at Dean with a blank expression. They stayed in silence for a minute, Sam’s breathing becoming harder every passing moment. Sam raised a hand to his mouth, the realization hitting him and Dean could see it unfold on his features. “So.. you feel something for this-, Bucky, then?” Sam said with a flat tone.   
  
There it was. He let his eyes fall down to the blankets in his lap. The question he hadn't even brang himself to ask himself. Dean waited, tossed the question in his mind for a moment. How could he feeling anything but  _ hatred and pure disgust _ to this person? That’s all he should feel for him, he shouldn't know his name or feel butterflies when he thinks of those pale eyes staring into his own.    
  
But that’s just it. He  _ does _ feel butterflies when the thought of his dark hair falling in his face came to mind. The glint of metal in the dim light, the feel of his thick cock pushing into him deep, filling him to the perfect feeling of full. The feel of his eager lips, entrapping him, invading his mouth. The feeling of being powerless against him. The memory of him trailing a finger in both of their come and licking it clean off the tip of his metal finger, his eyes locked into his with his dark hair framing his face, darkened his eyes. That lazy, hooded expression as his tongue flicked around it, sucking it with glistening lips. It sent a shameful thrill of excitement straight to his cock.   
  
But then, the feeling of fear. The feeling that with comes with him, knowing he’s around. Knowing, that when Dean’s alone next in two days, he’ll be there waiting. He did scare him. And Dean’s never felt fear for his own life before. But that's just it, he knew that even with the danger that is wrapped around this situation, Dean could feel that Bucky  _ didn't want to kill him _ . He even said he didn't want too. But there was still fear, because Dean had no clue who this person was, or what he was. Dean was brought up to kill and hunt down monsters. He knew them, knew how they worked and how they thought. Bucky was a whole ‘nother monster and Dean had no clue how he worked. It damn right excited him.   
  
Dean just glanced up at Sam, eyes filled with tears as he took a small breath. “I don't know.” Dean finally said. “And that scares the crap out of me.” Dean confessed finally.   
Sam stood abruptly. He placed a hand on his hip as he ran his other hand through his hair and down the back of his neck as he paced back and forth at the foot of Dean’s bed. Dean watched on, seeing the confusion on Sam’s face. He felt his voice crack when he spoke. “Say something.”   
Sam stopped, holding a hand to his brow as he looked at Dean with worry. “What am I meant to say, Dean?” His eyes twinkled, his mouth forming a soft line.   
Dean bit his lip. “I don't know Sam, how about some words of encouragement?” Dean felt a quirk of annoyance. Sam is the only person he has right now, since his Angel is M.I.A. He needed to hear the typical thing. The whole, ‘ _ What you’re feeling is completely normal _ ’ bullshit that he knew was completely not true. But he needed it, he was desperate for it.   
  
Sam huffed, shaking his head and jutting his jaw. “Encouragement? I don't even know what to say Dean, this is a completely fucked up situation,” Sam’s voice was now at near yelling stage and it irked something inside of Dean as he ripped the blankets off him as he stood to get out of bed.    
“You think I don't know that Sam?” Dean closed the distance between them, looking up at Sam as he yelled back at him.   
“Dean, you just told me you think you feel something for a guy who.. Who did this!” He pointed to Dean’s face, “This to you!” Sam shouted at him, “After everything he did to you, Dean, I don't understand?” Sam threw his hands up, taking a step away from him.   
“I know, and I don't understand either Sam, just-” Dean took a step closer to him, following him as Sam backed away from him. “Just, listen to me!-” Dean gripped his wrist. “Hey!” He yelled at him, his voice gone scratchy from crying and now yelling.    
Sam just stared at him, breathing hard.   
“Sam. I just need you, okay? I need you. I don't have anyone. Please, just-” Sam’s arms were wrapped around him once more, Dean didn't have to finish the sentence. Dean felt the annoyance shift, comfort rolling through him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Sam hugged him tighter as Dean closed his eyes and gripped him firmly. “I just.. I don't know what to do.” Sam’s voice had gone back to soft, and he was quiet once more.    
  
Dean sighed. “I have to tell you something else.” Sam released him, holding onto his shoulders as he looked down at him. His eyes were concerned again. He licked his lips, nodded twice. “What is it?”   
“We should sit down again..”   
  
When Sam complied, they sat back down on the foot of Dean’s bed. Their knees were touching as Dean leaned into Sam’s shoulder a little and Sam let him. Dean told him absolutely everything. He spared no detail, told him what had happened while he was gone.   
  
He proceeded to tell him that in two days, Bucky wanted their dad's journal. He explained he didn't know why he wanted it, just that he believed there will be even worse problems if they don't give it to him. Dean was trembling all over again as he continued to explain the situation.    
  
Sam listened, he was quiet, but he didn’t freak out again and Dean was thankful. Sam was nodding, thinking as Dean watched him process everything. When he was finally finished with the whole situation, Sam stood once more and went to the kitchen table and pulled up his computer. Dean stood too, and moved to the table and sat next to him. He watched as Sam searched through archives again, looking for even more information on him. “Sam, we’ve done all the research possible. There’s nothing new to find out? It’s hopeless.” Dean crossed his arms on the table and rested his head in them. Sam said nothing as he continued to do research. Sam was clicking away on the keyboard before he stopped. “We know one more thing,” Sam began. Leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “And now we know who he really is.”   
Dean raised his head and looked back at Sam, noticing his perplexed expression. Interested, he leaned over at the laptop. His breath left his lungs as he looked at the screen.   
He glared at the man in the Sargent suit, expression soft but serious. His suit clean and well shaped around his figure as he looked at the features of the man in the black and white photo from the 1940’s. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think as he read on.    
  
He read lines like  _ Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. Member of an elite special Allied Soldier unit called the Howling Commandos in World War II _ . His mind was racing as he continued to read, pulling the laptop closer to him.  _ James Barnes _ . Born in 1917. Dean felt himself shiver, letting the information fill his brain.    
  
He scanned the old time photo’s, seeing him dressed in his uniform, guns in hand. He was so young, so proud looking. Dean felt strange. He felt something off. He turned to look at Sam, who was biting a nail, an odd expression on his face as he he stared at the screen too. Dean grimaced, turning to look back at the screen and continue reading.    
  
As he read on, ‘the Winter Soldier’ started coming up. The relation between them two now becoming more clear. Head saw words that struck out more clearly now, like  _ HYDRA _ and  _ S.H.I.E.L.D  _ and a person called  _ Steve Rogers  _ who was his best friend since childhood _. _ He read a sentence that made him feel queasy.    
‘ _ Zola's experimentation allowed James Barnes to survive the fall from a train. HYDRA subjected him to brainwashing as part of their "Winter Soldier" program.’ _ _   
_ _   
_ Dean gasped, bringing a hand to his mouth as he whispered, “brainwashed?” He sat back in his seat, turning to look at Sam once more who was just as shocked as Dean felt.   
Sam huffed, “Brainwashed.” He repeated, Sam’s tone was so serious. “He’s a goddamn brainwashed assassin, Dean.” It was the most serious he’s ever heard him. “This is...this is bad.” sounded breathless. Dean didn't know what to think, or say.    
  
‘Barnes would remain frozen for long periods of time until HYDRA saw fit to unfreeze him for certain missions.’ Dean ran a hand over through his hair. “Fr-frozen? Oh my god.” He felt his heart rate pick up as he read on.   
‘Over the next seventy years, Barnes would be responsible for dozens of assassinations including politicians and scientists. Due to his expertise in the field and the shadowy nature of his existence, Barnes became something of a ghost story within intelligence agencies, many doubting he even existed.’   
When he finished reading the page, he remembered to breathe. Not realizing he was holding his breath. He sat back in his seat, silently looking at the black and white pictures while he let the background information of this James Barnes.. This,  _ Sergeant  _ Barnes sink in.    
  
“What do we do.” He kept his voice even as possible.   
“We wait two days.” Sam simply stated.   
Dean gave him a confusing look. “We wait two days? Then what?”   
He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.” Dean stared at him, setting his jaw.    
“Oh, you’ll figure it out?” Dean said sarcastically. Sam flashed him an irritated look.   
“Yeah Dean, I’ll figure it out!” Sam snapped. Rising from his chair and moving to stand by the side of the table and leaning down on it, his shoulders hunching as he sighed. “You obviously can't handle this on your own..” Dean’s mouth opened with a pop.    
“What's that supposed to mean?”    
“Oh, just quit it Dean. You know what I mean!” Sam lashed out again, not looking at him.   
Dean rose from his chair, pushing it back with a loud squeak against the floor.   
“Nah Sam, c’mon, tell me! Tell me, what do you really think?” Dean yelled from across the table.   
Sam turned, squaring his shoulders. “Dean, I didn't mean it like that.” He said sternly, eyes narrowing.   
“Oh cut the crap, you just think I’m not capable of taking care of this.” Dean threw his hands up, irritatance written on his face.   
Sam leant back on one leg, folding his arms. “Well, you sure as hell haven't been taking care of this Dean, look at you!” Sam hurled his words at him, his anger boiling up. “You can't even be alone without him coming to you, and doing god knows what to you! What about Cas, huh Dean? What about Cas? What will he think when he finds out!?” Sam was shouting at him, his brows furrowing as his words hit Dean right in the hole in his heart.   
“Don't you do that, Sam. Don't you bring him up.” Dean’s eyes tearing up as he side glanced him, his jaw clenching listening to him yell.   
“Well what do you think’s going to happen Dean? Do you think any good will come of this?”    
“Of all people! You! You’re all I’ve got right now and I don't need this from you!” Dean shouted back, matching Sam’s intensity as for the thousandth time, tears fell from his eyes. He felt so  _ done  _ with crying. How does he even have tears left over?   
“You’ve gotta hear it Dean. This man? He’s nothing but bad news. He’s been nothing but bad! You just don't see that do you?”    
“You’re accusing me of that? He hasn't killed me Sam. You and I both know he could!”   
Sam was taken back by his words. Dean didn't even know why he said them.    
“Oh, so you’re defending this guy?”    
“No! Sam, just stop!” Dean gripped the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. “I knew you wouldn't understand.”   
“No Dean, I don't. So here’s what I’m going to do.” Sam grabbed the car keys from the table. Dean glanced at him with confusion. “What are you doing?” Panic rose inside him as he watched Sam make his way to the front door. “You’re leaving?”   
“Yes Dean.” Is all Sam said as he reached for the door.   
  
Dean ran from where he was, moving himself as fast as he could between the door and Sam, pressing his hands to Sam’s broad chest as he pressed his back to the door for support. “Don't you  _ dare _ walk out this door!” Dean cried, pushing Sam back with the little strength he had. “Don't you dare leave me, Sam!” He looked up at him.   
Sam hesitated.    
“Please! Please-p-p, please don't leave me Sam.” Dean pulled on Sam’s shirt, crying into his chest. “I’m so scared Sam, and I’m not scared for my life. I’m scared of what I’m feeling, please, just understand that.” Dean stilled. “I just need you to understand that.” He whispered.   
  
He felt Sam’s hand drop from the door handle. No words were said as Dean felt Sam move away, dropping the keys to the kitchen table once more. He walked to his own bed and sat down. Dean stayed where he was, not understanding or knowing what was happening and feeling the stress wear him down.    
  
Sam gave him a small smile as he sat on his bed, he gestured to the food on the side table that was long forgotten. Now it was cold, but he still picked up the plate. “You need to eat.” he said in a pleasant tone. “C’mon man, sit down. I won't leave you, I promise.” Dean sighed. He felt his legs go a little wobbly as he walked over to their beds. He sat down and took the plate from Sam, giving him a weak smile as he picked up the fork and ate the half cold food.   
  
They stayed like that for the rest of the night. They didn't speak about James Barnes or the Winter Soldier. Dean watched crappy TV while Sam went over his laptop and their dad's journal for more information. Anything new about him, Sam didn't mention. They just stayed silent unless they mentioned something about food, the stupid show or going to sleep. It was easy company, and Dean felt safe finally. He felt comfort roll over him as Sam kept the environment light with not only his presence and calm tone, but that night he kept the kitchen light on as they both drifted to sleep. It was a small gesture, Dean didn't even ask for it. But in some way, it was just what Dean needed without having to ask.    
  
When he started to drift off, he felt warm and comfortable in his bed. His stomach was full and he’d finally stopped crying. As he drifted off to sleep, feeling his dream beginning, he saw black and white. An old timey film roll on an ocean canvas. There was flickering of military guns, machinery and men. They were all soldiers, hanging out at the beach with tents along the shore line. He wanted so bad to picture the blue, rich deep ocean blue of the water, but it was a dark grey. Suddenly, he was standing by a tent when a man, walked by and bumped his shoulder. He turned to him, in slow motion, the grey color washing away to a dull green Sargent uniform, a lopsided smile and a piercing pair of ice blue eyes under a hat. He smiled at him, apologizing for not seeing him before lingering.   
  
Dean stared in awe, absolutely lost in the presence of this man. He wanted to reach out and touch him. He held out his hand, looking down to see himself in a grey uniform. He too, was in black and white. When the man shook his hand, suddenly everything around him washed away in color. The colors were vibrant, and the world around him lit up. He felt the hand inside his, it was all too real.   
“Sergeant James Barnes.” He smiled at him, handsome and proud.   
Before he could speak, he noticed the sound of waves crashing around him. He glanced off to his side to see the rich ocean blue of the water.    
He wanted to go closer to the water, he wanted to be in it. But James held his hand, his grip was tight. When he turned back to him, he saw longer hair falling out underneath the hat.   
“Tell me to let go, and I will.” The same inviting, handsome smile was still there. But there was a darkness to his eyes.   
  
Dean stared back for a moment, then looked out to the ocean. He felt himself wanting to go, he wanted to feel the cool water and immerse himself in the blue. But his hand gripped James’ tighter, and he felt the man pull him into his chest. Suddenly, the hat was gone, and he was nuzzling into longer hair and a black leathered shoulder. He felt hands sliding up his sides and he moved his torso closer, letting him feel him up. He could feel his cold metal fingers along his back as he let him feel him up, pushing his hips into him.    
  
Suddenly, Dean’s eyes flashed open and everything was pitch black except for dim silver light from the mood highlighting certain things in the room. He was abruptly woken, he didn't even know why. The dream he was having was… so real, he didn't notice the warm fingers snaking in front of his mouth, covering his lips. There was a warm body next to him in his bed as he realized, with sudden fear, there was someone with him. He felt hot breath at the nape of his neck as he laid on his back, feeling the person edge closer, pressed their hand firmly down on his mouth so he can't make a noise.   
  
He felt a cold, metal hand pushing his shoulder to roll away from him. He slowly obeyed, knowing exactly who was behind him. He felt the spike of panic hit him hard as he realized his pants and underwear were removed, and Bucky’s hard cock was prodding at his entrance. Dean shivered when he felt the metal hand move underneath his naked chest and wrap around him. Bucky was right up behind him now, his real hand still covering his mouth.   
  
Dean looked over in the dim moonlight at Sam. Slightly snoring away, asleep. Dean shut his eyes, adrenaline spiking his veins as he felt Bucky lick a small line up his neck to his ear. “I couldn't resist.” Bucky’s deep, low whisper send a flutter of excitement in his abdomen, he whimpered, soft and small. “Shh, don't want to wake your brother.” He put his lips to the side of Dean’s neck, feeling his tongue tickle and grace his skin. “I’m going to remove my hand.” Bucky’s voice was dripping with arousal, Dean could hear it. “Don't make a single noise.”   
  
Dean felt his fingers slide away from his face as his hand moved underneath the covers, trailing down Dean’s ribs, to his his hip, to his ass. He felt Bucky move his cock right at Dean’s entrance, giving a small thrust. Dean rolled his face into the pillow, he didn't want to make any noise what so ever, he was so scared of waking Sam.   
  
When he felt lubed fingers at his hole, he pushed back onto his two fingers. He pulled a hand up to his own mouth, biting onto the knuckles as he felt Bucky slide his fingers in and out of him, opening him up for what he knew was coming next. He stayed as quiet as possible as the flicker of pleasure rolled up inside him. His own cock swelling against his thigh as he felt Bucky move closer. “I couldn't wait two days.” Bucky whispered, deep and husky. “I want you, now.”    
  
Dean felt the head of Bucky’s throbbing dick enter him in a smooth, drawn out motion. He slipped inside him, pushing all the way in as Dean shut his eyes, biting into his knuckles again, holding his breath as Bucky slowly rolled his hips against his ass. Bucky had worked him open perfectly, not an ounce of pain as he slid in and out of him, filling him up and feeling the thickness stretch him before sliding out with smooth movements. Dean wanted to moan, he could feel it in the back of his throat as Bucky held onto him, sliding his cock inside him and nudging his sweet spot inside him with every small, quiet snap of his hips.    
  
He rolled his hips back, meeting every rut of Bucky's as they began to fuck. Dean’s breathing became hot, he could feel the sweat forming on his body as bursts of pleasure pulsed through him, filling his body with  _ ohfuckyes  _ ripples of pure pleasure rolled up his stomach and down, into his throbbing cock.    
  
He opened his eyes, and saw Sam’s silhouette in the moonlight, still sound asleep. He let out a small, helpless whine from his mouth as he felt Bucky’s cock throb deep inside him, fucking him deep and  _ just fucking right _ . Bucky’s hand moved from his hip, up to his jaw as he twisted Dean’s face to look at him from behind as he picked up the pace. They silently looked upon each other’s faces and Dean saw, even in the dim light, those piercing ice blue eyes. He wanted to moan, he wanted to speak, but he kept his mouth shut as he flared his nose, breathing hard as he felt Buck's cock bury itself inside him. They fucked silently as they both watched their expressions contort in pleasure. Dean reached around, placing a hand on Bucky’s jaw. He felt the stubble, he felt the sharp line of his jaw bone in his hand as he pressed himself into him. Dean didn't care, he was too lost in the heat of the feeling, the throb of his cock, the tingling bursts through his body as he pulled Bucky’s mouth to his.   
  
Bucky leaned down, and kissed him with stiff motion. Dean pressed his hand to the back of his head, moving his lips against Bucky’s, trying to get him to relax his mouth so he can move his tongue he so desperately wanted to get in side. He felt his fingers lace through his hair, gripping him hard as Bucky’s hips began to snap harder, holding him by his chest with his metal hand. Dean licked his bottom lip, swiping his tongue before nipping it and pulling away. Bucky growled. He growled like a ravenous dog over a piece of meat. He frowned in the moonlight as Dean looked into his shining eyes. Bucky pressed his lips eagerly back to Dean’s, forcing his mouth open as he fucked harder, rougher into him. His tongue slid it's way into Dean’s awaiting mouth. Their tongues moved together, Dean let out a small groan, trying to stay quiet, but he wanted to show Bucky just how much he wanted it.   
  
When Bucky pulled away from the kiss, he looked at him with a lazy, satisfied smile. He rested his forehead to Dean’s cheek as he pumped his cock inside him, moving his hand from his face and down to Dean’s throbbing dick, he began to twist his hand over Dean’s sensitive cock. Dean moved his face back into the pillow once more, biting down into it as Bucky snapped into him, his cock vigorously fucking into him hard and fast, while his hand jerked him to his orgasm.    
  
“B-,”Dean whispered against the pillow. He felt the rise of his orgasm coming, his stomach tightening as he felt the rush of pleasure rise in his cock. “Bucky,” He breathed, “I’m gonna-” He felt teeth on his bare shoulder as he came. He felt him nip at his skin, pulling the flesh of his shoulder into Bucky’s hot, wet mouth. His cock spurted into his hand as his body shuddered violently around Bucky’s pulsing, coming cock. Bucky let out two small grunts, then bit down once more on his shoulder. Sending a  _ feelgoodpain _ through Dean as he felt Bucky’s cock pulse deep inside him, his body undulating behind him as they both came together, as quietly as they could. Bucky was holding onto Dean firmly, pulling him back into him as they slowly stopped moving together. Dean was high on the feeling, he wriggled back onto Bucky. Bucky held him, Dean felt another pulse of his cock which was still buried deep inside him as he shivered, his breath stuttering as he felt his body come down from the high.   
  
Bucky moved quickly as he removed his leaking cock from his ass, then moved his metal arm from underneath Dean. Dean rolled onto his back, feeling Bucky move out of the bed.   
Dean reached out, gripping a metal wrist and whispered. “-wait,” Bucky paused, pulling his pants around his hips with his free hand, allowing Dean to hold onto his wrist.   
“Are you still coming back?” Is all Dean could think of to say as he felt a sweat bead roll down his brow.   
Bucky moved his metal fingers, twisting his wrist in Dean’s grip to lace them around Dean’s hand loosely. “Yes.” His voice was barely audible.   
Dean took no time in leaning forward more, noticing Bucky unmoving as he waited. “Will you hurt me again?” He said trying to pull Bucky down to his level. Bucky did. He leant down and Dean could see his features again in the moonlight. His hair was all over the place, his stubble was coming in, shadowing and contouring his features. He looked breathtaking.   
“No.” Is all Bucky said, still holding onto Dean’s hand.    
Dean nodded. He didn't know where to go from here. Then Bucky spoke.    
“My name sounds good on your lips,” He leaned in really close, letting go of his wrist as he moved a hand to the side of Dean’s cheek.   
Dean said nothing, just watched as Bucky paused, then stood again. “See you soon, Winchester.”    
  
Dean watched Bucky disappear into the darkness of the room, before switching on the kitchen light. Pale yellow light lit up the room as Dean stared at him from his bed. He was still in his typical leather clothing, his metal arm glinting. Bucky looked at him, his brows furrowed with his hair around his eyes. He gave him a small, ever faint smile before their eyes both snapped to Sam rolling over in his bed. Sam grunted, made a couple of noises before stilling. Dean sighed in relief but before he had a chance to look back in the kitchen, Bucky was gone.   
  
He still couldn't figure out how he does it. He is an assassin after all, his job is to be nothing but quiet, barely there at all. But it still amazed him how he could just.. disappear.   
  
Dean laid flat on his back. This was the first night, the guilt and shame was at its lowest. He didn't know what he was feeling as he shut his eyes, pressed his hands together and laced his fingers.   
  
_ ‘Cas. There’s something wrong with me. Even if you’re listening and just not coming, Just know.. I don't think I could ever disappoint you more. I’m betraying you, Cas. In the worst way possible. My life isn't even that much of a concern right now, compared to the feeling of what is happening to me. To us... If calling you when I need you isn't enough for you to come. Well, I hope that the time comes when I don't need you anymore.. and you do come. Because I’ll always need you Cas. Whether I know it or not. When you come back, I promise, I’ll make it up to you. I don't know how, man. But I will. But now I think I understand why you’re not coming. And I wouldn't come to me either after everything. Maybe you knew this whole time? Maybe you knew from the moment Bucky came to me…”  _ Dean felt his throat tighten as a lump formed. __ “Cas. Just.. Whatever is happening, please… Please come back to me.’   



	5. Covered In The Colors

Today was the day.   
  


 

They’d spent all day yesterday, cleaning every single gun they had. Loading the ones they needed. Well, Sam did anyway. Dean didn't tell Sam about the night before. When he woke up that morning, Sam didn’t know a thing. He didn't think Sam needed to know, he would’ve just freaked out and caused an argument no doubt, which is far what Dean wanted. He doesn't need to know, because nothing  _ bad _ happened and they still had their dad’s journal. So, Dean went along, pulled the guns apart, put them back together. Agreed with Sam when he informed him which guns they wanted to have for Bucky’s arrival. All day, they said nothing about Bucky.    
  
The night before, Dean slept without praying, without Bucky coming to him. Though, he thought he saw a flicker of shining metal outside the window, but it went out of his mind as fast as he saw it. He fell asleep fast, not dreaming of anything or anyone.

  
That morning they were quiet as they sat eating breakfast at the kitchen table. Dean glanced at the small alarm clock by Sam’s bed, which read 9:31am. He then saw their dad’s journal sitting on Sam’s bed, which was cleanly made.   
  
Dean still didn't ask him what his plan was. He barely admitted it to himself, but he really hoped that they didn't need to actually use the guns. He would if it came to Sam’s life, without a doubt. But he just didn't see it going that way. But he doesn't know how it’ll go, he just hopes they can figure out why he wants the journal. He brang his eyes back to the table, looking at the guns sitting next to him. He looked up at Sam who was quietly eating, not noticing Dean fidgeting.   
  
He didn't know when to expect Bucky, he didn't know if he was to come at night or morning. That made him drop his spoon in his cereal bowl, pushing it away as he filled with anxiety for the upcoming events.

When they heard the bathroom door open, both of them stood abruptly to spin and face the door. Sam picked up a handgun, cocked it and held it up high as Dean watched with wide eyes as Bucky walked out into the living space. He shut the door behind him, and turned to look at Dean.   
  
He wasn't in his usual black leather attire. He was in a red long sleeved shirt. Rolled up at the elbows. He wore casual jeans. His hair was messy, but didn't look unclean. Dean didn't know what to think as he stared at him, his mouth open and Bucky dropped his eyes to the ground and walked towards Dean’s bed and sat down, leaning on his knees and resting his head on his hands as he leaned forward. He looked  _ way _ too calm.

 

Dean’s eyes flickered to Sam, then to the journal on Sam’s bed again. Bucky’s eyes stayed on Dean, he didn't even twitch in the direction of the journal. Dean swallowed thickly, feeling the tension in the air as Sam said nothing, still holding the gun in Bucky’s direction.   
“S-Sam, put the gun down.” Dean’s voice was low when he spoke, trying not to trigger the environment.    
Sam clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at his target. “No.”    
Dean reached out an arm, gripping Sam’s wrist slowly, softly pushing his arm down. Sam resisted at first, “Sam, he’s not threatening us, just put the gun down.”    
Sam said nothing as he let out a harsh breath, lowering the gun. He didn't put it down, just held it in his hand as he let his arm drop to his side.  _ That’s better then ready to pull the trigger.  _ Dean thought.

  
Dean bit his lip as the room remained silent for a moment. “Why do you want the journal?” Sam’s voice.  
Bucky flashed his eyes to Sam under his long hair. “Personal reasons.” His eyes flicked back to Dean, who was watching Bucky from where he was. He stared at his lips for a second, noticing the shine to them, briefly relenting in the moment of how they feel against his, before snapping out of it and focussing.  
“Not good enough.” Sam said, his stance growing taller.  
Bucky looked down for a second, before running a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face and sighing. “I want to make a deal with you.” His eyes locked onto Sam’s again. Dean suddenly felt less important, like as if this was between Sam and Bucky. He turned to Sam, watching and waiting. Chewing his lip.  
“A deal? What makes you think I’ll do anything with you?” Sam snapped.  
Bucky stilled. “I don't want to take the journal from you.” Dean looked back at Bucky with confusion, oh god. What does he really want? He clenched his fists, suddenly worried Bucky might spill about the other night, maybe he just wants Dean? Fear crept up on Dean’s skin.  
“I want your help.” Bucky’s voice became soft. Dean was so confused.   
Sam barked a laugh, leaning his head back before turning to Dean. “Hear that Dean? Our help?” Sam shook his head, “No. I won't do a single thing for you. After what you’ve done, what makes you think we’ll help you?”  
Bucky took his bottom lip in his mouth as he glanced at Dean, “Because, he doesn't want to say no.” Bucky simply said, looking at Dean with a pleading look. Dean was suddenly taken back by the hopeful, tired, sorrowful look inside Bucky’s eyes. Sam just stared at Dean, Dean couldn't look away from Bucky. “What do you want.” Dean felt the words escaping his mouth. “Why do you need our help?’  
Bucky slowly stood, running a hand over his mouth as he stepped a few paces towards Dean. Sam turned sideways, moving slightly between them before Dean pressed his arm against Sam’s torso, giving him a look which Sam read. Sam eyed Bucky, but moved slightly away.  
  
Bucky’s eyes lingered on Dean. “What do you know about me?”   
“Everything.” Sam’s voice cut in as Dean went to speak.  
“So you know I was… taken.” Dean studied Bucky’s face, watching him think.  
“Yes, brainwashed.” Sam again. Bucky nodded.   
“Then you know I fail to remember.. My life, before everything?” He glanced at Sam, setting his jaw. Sam said nothing, gripping the gun tightly.   
“You don't remember anything?” Dean said, his voice shaking a little.  
Bucky returned his eyes. “Not everything. Which is why.. I want your help.”   
Sam shook his head again, bewilderment written on his face. “How are we supposed to help? We’re not shrinks, we’re far from therapists.”   
Dean let his eyes fall to the floor as realization hit him. He was suddenly aware of whose help he truly needed. It wasn't Sam, or him that could help him. He let out a breath, noticing their eyes on him.  
He ran a hand through his hair. “Cas.”   
Bucky said nothing while Sam stood quietly, realizing exactly what that meant.  
“Cas can heal you, giving your memory back.” Dean stated, his tone flat as his gaze stayed on the floor in front of Bucky. “Well, sorry to disappoint. But-”   
Bucky cut him off, “He’s not here, I know.”   
Sam stared at him.  
“We can't get him to come to us.” Dean said, rising his eyes to Bucky once more. Feeling the spike of sadness hit him.  
“I know.” Bucky simply said.  
  
Then Dean was hit with another realization.   
_"Your brother?" He licked his earlobe, then moved his lips to Dean's neck. Placing a soft, almost gentle kiss to his neck. "Or your lover?"_ _  
_Bucky always knew. He always knew about Cas, he knew he wasn't with him that night. He must’ve been following him for weeks, months maybe.  
“You knew he wasn't there that night, didn't you.” Dean’s voice was flat as he felt emotions rise inside him.  
Bucky paused, then realized what he meant. “Yes.”  
“How?” Dean wanted to punch him, he suddenly wanted to make him feel every ounce of pain he ever felt, and put it on him. Bucky sighed.  
“Dean, he was gone for two whole days before that night. Even you know that.”   
Dean glared at him. “You knew about us then?” Sam remained quiet.  
Bucky nodded. “Yes, I knew.”  
Dean suddenly felt blinding rage, fury enveloped him as he yanked the handgun out of Sam’s hand and gripped Bucky’s shirt with his hand, holding the gun underneath his jaw. “Why did you do this to me!” Dean spat, tears falling out of his eyes, “If you knew about him, you could’ve come to us! Why did you have to do what you did!” Bucky stilled, eyeing Dean under his lashes.  
“Because,” He whispered, “If I hurt the one thing that he cared most about, I thought he’d come back.” Bucky’s voice broke.  
Dean looked at him, feeling the words hit him in the gut. “So you lied to me the other night then?” Dean’s face screwed up in fury. “What was all that about how _I remind you of someone_? Just lies, bullshit to get closer to me? Another trick in hopes to get him to come?” Dean yelled, Sam completely forgotten as he watched on from behind.   
“No. I didn't lie about that.” Bucky’s voice was small. Dean pressed the gun harder under his jaw as he cried. “You have the same eyes as him.”   
He stared at him through watery eyes as Bucky made no move to resist. Just pressing his lips in a sad line as he looked up at Dean towering over him.  
  
Dean felt a hand on his shoulder, Sam was pulling him off of him. Dean grit his teeth as he allowed Sam to move him off of him.  
“If we help you, you need to know one thing.” Sam said, taking the gun from Dean’s hand and stepping in front of him. “You will never, never see Dean again. Do you understand?” Bucky went to speak when Sam’s voice boomed. “Do you understand!” Bucky shut his mouth and nodded once.  
“When this is done, you will leave. Don't you ever come back. Because if you do,” Dean watched Sam close the distance, Bucky looked so small compared to Sam’s tall, broad back. “I will personally kill you myself.” Bucky stared passed his shoulder to Dean. “I understand.”  
“Good.” Sam said, backing away from him and turning to Dean, placing a hand on his shoulder as Dean collected himself, calming down. Bucky still stared at him, his eyes twinkling.   
  
Sam walked passed them both to the duffle bag on the end of the kitchen table. Bucky and Dean said nothing as they looked at each other, when Sam spoke once more.  
“We have an Angel to summon.”   
  
  
  
Thirty long, drawn out minutes went by as Sam and Dean opened up the living space, and marked out the circle for the ritual. Sam marked out the lines while Dean wrote down the four enochian symbols at each corner. They lit the candles, and Sam grabbed the dish they needed filled with various items to set on fire.  
  
Bucky sat at the foot of Dean’s bed and watched quietly. Dean threw looks at him every now and then, and each time Bucky would be looking right back at him, his eyes soft underneath his hair.   
  
“Alright.” Sam said, “You ready?” He looked to Dean who moved to stand behind Sam who was in front of both of their beds, beside Bucky. Dean looked down at Bucky once more, felt a flutter of excitement fill him and let out a held breath. “Ready.”   
  
Sam began saying the words in enochian, his voice calm and even as he lit the bowl on fire which was in the center of the circle. The flames lit up instantly, burning bright and high, when suddenly, all sound was gone and Castiel was standing in the centre of the circle.  
  
He looked calm, no confusion written on his face as Dean looked at him. Finally. Finally Cas was here, he couldn't even believe it. Dean felt a surge of happiness roll through him as he stayed back, his eyes filling with joy as a smile played on his lips.  
  
Sam was the first to speak. “Cas,-”  
“Why did you summon me?” His voice, so deep and gravelly as he stood. His tan jacket hugging his shoulders tightly, his black hair pushed back.  
“We need your help.” Sam said again before Dean pushed passed him, unable to keep the distance any longer. He walked briskly to Cas, his footsteps falling loudly as he grew closer and closer to him.  
“Hello Dean.” He said, as Dean wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him in, hugging him so tight.  
“Hello, Cas.” His voice was shaking as he breathed in his scent. He smelled like flowers, almonds and all things perfect. He wanted to kiss him, but saved the feeling. He pulled back, looking into those ocean blue eyes. So rich, so deep with colour as he looked into them. “Where have you been, man?”  
“I’m sorry Dean.” Cas’ eyes were sad as he spoke. “I’ve been doing work in heaven.”   
“We figured Cas, it’s alright.” Sam said from behind them as they looked at each other.  
“No, it’s not alright. I'm glad you summoned me. I won't have long before I’m summoned back.  Dean, I’m sorry.” He raised a hand to his cheek. “I heard you.” His brow furrowing in sadness. “I heard you, and I’m sorry.”  
Dean felt the tears in his eyes. “It’s alright Cas, it’s fine.” Dean gripped his hand on his cheek. “You’re here now.” He said, “I’m okay.” He nodded.  
Cas looked over his face, trying to see a fault in his words. He said nothing as he dropped his hand from Dean’s face and looked past him, to the long haired unfamiliar man on his bed. “You.” Cas said, moving passed Dean to walk towards him before Sam pressed a hand to his shoulder, stopping him. “Wait Cas, we need to talk,” Sam’s voice was light.  
Bucky looked at Cas with, for the first time ever, worry. Dean was so torn at the feeling it made him feel. Does Cas.. scare him?   
“Make it quick, I don't have long.” Cas turned to Sam.  
  
Sam explained in small detail everything about Bucky. While Bucky and Dean shared glances. They waited for Cas to speak.  
He said nothing as he moved to stand before Bucky. Sam and Dean didn't know what he was doing, but he raised his hand to Bucky’s forehead and Dean let out a shuddering breath.  
Bucky threw one last worrisome glance at Dean, before looking up at Cas. Bucky flinched, closing his eyes as Cas pressed his fingers to his forehead. Dean watched.. He waited as he saw Cas close his eyes, frown and then blink his eyes open.  
  
“I can't heal him.”   
Bucky looked up at him, confusion on his face. “Why?” He finally said.  
“I don't know.” Cas said, turning to face the brothers. “There’s like this… Cage around his mind. I tried to break it, but.. I can't.” Cas stated, thinking. “There must be something stopping me, there’s more to his mind than you think.” Cas stopped. “There’s something about your blood.” He faced Bucky once more, pulling out a blade.  
  
Before anyone could move or say something, Cas’ sliced a small nick on Bucky’s neck. Bucky barely flinched, it’s like he saw it coming. Dean watched with wide eyes as Cas moved a finger down to his neck, swiped the leaking blood and rubbed it between his fingers. He brang it to his eye level, before frowning. He brang the blood to his lips, and Bucky glanced up, watching.   
  
Cas put his index finger in his mouth, before tasting it on his tongue. He looked down at Bucky, frowning and tilting his head. “You have a serum in your blood.”  
Dean listened. “Serum?” He said, repeating Cas.  
Bucky looked down at the ground. “I was injected by Zola. It’s a super soldier serum.” He said quietly.   
“He barely ages.” Cas said, holding his fingers to Bucky’s neck and trying to heal the cut, but to no avail. Sam and Dean looked at each other, puzzlement on their faces. “He should be able to heal himself. He should be.. Superhuman.” Cas said without a worry in his tone. Like as if this was a normal everyday situation.  
“Well that's something we didn't know.” Sam stated, sounding completely chuffed.  
“I think that's why I can't heal him.” Cas said. “The Serum should be healing him, but..” He looked lost in thought again as Bucky sighed on the bed. “The brainwashing must’ve cancelled out the healing process. Something went wrong. The Serum should be healing him, but it's at a stand still. I can't heal him because the serum is repelling me.” He was piecing it together. “I can't heal someone, who already has something superhuman, capable of such things.” Cas said finally.   
They all remained quiet.  
“Can you take the serum out of me?” Bucky said, his voice even. Dean looked at him, noticing his metal arm flexing.  
“I don't think I can.” Cas said, sitting on Sam’s bed and facing Bucky. “Unless..”  
“Unless?” Dean repeated him again.  
Cas scratched his brow, thinking. “I might be able to burn it out of him. Instead of taking it out, per say.”   
“Can you try?” Bucky said.  
“It’ll hurt like hell.” Cas looked at him.  
Bucky nodded. “I can take it.”  
Dean interrupted, “Could this kill him?” He folded his arms over his chest.  
“I don't know.” Cas said, “Maybe. It depends how hard the serum is to destroy.”  
“Let's do it.” Bucky said, standing suddenly, unbuckling his belt. Dean watched him pull the belt out of his pants and lie down on his bed, folding the belt once, then placing it in his mouth. Staring up at the ceiling.  
  
Sam walked over to him as Cas moved to stand next to him. Dean stood still, he slowly moved to stand at the foot of the bed, looking down at Bucky.  
“Alright, Sam, tie his arms up.” Cas said.  
Bucky made a protesting noise, keeping his arms by his side as he bit through the belt still. “Just do it.” He said through the leather in his teeth.  
  
Sam and Cas glanced at each other, before Sam gave Cas a nod. With that, Cas had his fingers at his temple while Bucky shut his eyes, breathing hard.  
  
Dean watched on. Bucky suddenly convulsed on the bed. His body going rigid, his breathing coming in sharp breaths as he bit down hard on the leather. Dean looked at Cas, who was concentrating, looking down at Bucky with focus. Bucky let out a noise, it sounded like he was just hit, or kicked. He didn't scream.. He yelped. Dean moved closer, watching as Sam held his shoulders down. Bucky let out a shuddering breath, his chest heaving as he suddenly opened his eyes. Pain sliced through his features as he bit down harder, his neck straining as he started to groan. Cas suddenly ripped his hand away from Bucky, like he’d just scolded himself on raw hot iron. Bucky relaxed instantly, his breathing coming in hard as Cas backed away holding his hand.  
  
Dean was at Cas’ side instantly. “What happened?”  
Cas shook his head. “I could barely touch it. I couldn't burn it.” Dean looked at Cas’ hand. He looked alright on the outside, but saw pain written on his face.  
“But he was.. he was reacting, Cas?” Dean protested.  
Cas turned to him and gave him a sorry look. “I’m sorry. I can't help him.”  
Bucky sat up, removing the belt from his mouth as Sam made his way to them. “What happened to you?”  
“It backfired, the serum rose to his skin.” Cas paused. “I don't think I can touch him for long periods of time. He’s Superhuman, and I’m an Angel of the lord. We don't mix well.” He glanced at Bucky, sitting up with the belt in his lap, still breathing hard.  
  
Dean looked over his shoulder. “Well something happened? Look at him.” He turned back to Cas.  
“Like I said, Dean. I could barely touch it. He was in immense pain, I don't know how he stayed that calm.” Cas held onto Dean’s shoulder. “I can't do any more for him.”  
“Well now what?” Sam said. Dean sighed, looking up at Cas and Sam.   
“Can you give us a minute?” Dean said quietly.   
“Dean, I don't have much time.” Cas hesitated, giving him a look, “I don't have long before they summon me back in heaven.”  
“I know Cas, I’ll only take a minute.” Dean gave him a small, reassuring smile. Before both Sam and Cas exited the front door. Sam looked back over his shoulder at Dean and gave him a warning look.   
  
When the door shut with a soft click, Dean was alone with Bucky. Dean stood where he was, watching him. Bucky looked up, his face turned upside down with misery.   
“You gotta go.” Dean said from across the room. Bucky moved his eyes from Dean to the ground in front of him. “You don't really want that, do you Dean.” He said with a pitiful tone.  
Dean grimaced. “It doesn't matter. You have to leave.” Bucky rose, sliding the belt back through his jeans as he walked over to stand before Dean.  
“I’ll leave.” Bucky said, leaning closer. “But I know you want me to come back.” Gracing his lips over Dean’s as he whispered. “Maybe.. Maybe I’ll fuck you after your Angel does.” He nipped at Dean’s jaw as he stood still, listening. “You’d like that, wouldn't you Dean?” Bucky pressed his body close to Dean’s, snaking his mouth to his neck. “He doesn't know yet, does he?” Bucky’s breath ghosted along his skin, causing goosebumps. He shivered, closing his eyes. “He doesn't know how I make you moan.” Bucky’s tongue flicked out on Dean’s jaw. “You don't want him to know.” Dean bit his lip. “Well Dean,” Bucky’s lips softly moved from Dean’s jaw to his lips. “Don't tell him.” He pressed his lips to Dean’s mouth hungrily, a metal hand coming up to grip his face and pull him in.  
  
Dean groaned into the kiss, not realizing just how much he wanted to kiss him. How much he was aching too. He opened his mouth, letting Bucky’s tongue inside his as they danced. He tasted him, he could feel his lips pressing against his with force. It was hot, it was a little too rough. It was everything that Bucky _is._  
He wanted to wrap his arms around him, he wanted Bucky to force him to the ground. He wanted to feel him, feel him all over him _._ He felt a small voice in the back of his head tell him how bad he is, how horrible he is. How disgusting he is. But he ignored it, shoved it away when Bucky let out a small grunt as he rolled his hips once into Dean’s groin.  
  
When Bucky pulled away, Dean felt dazed. He opened his eyes to look at Bucky whose jaw was slack, his lips were puffy and he looked ready to _fuck_. He felt himself hold his breath.  
“I’m goin’.” Is all he said as he pushed passed Dean suddenly. Dean without thinking, gripped Bucky’s left wrist as he moved to walk out the front door, _that's a change_ , wrapping his fingers around the cool metal.  
Bucky paused, turning to look at Dean as he let go of his wrist as quickly as he grabbed it. Bucky let out a low, soft rumble of a laugh. He licked his lip, looking up at Dean with lazy eyes. “You know I’ll be back, Winchester.”   
Dean let out his breath. He said nothing as Bucky winked at him, “See you soon.”  
  
Dean watched him open the door, and walk past Sam and Cas who were standing by the door. Sam gave Dean a knowing look once more, which made Dean feel a spike of guilt as he watched Bucky walk away. He looked at Cas, who was giving Dean a puzzled look. Dean brang his hand to his mouth, wiping away a small amount of Bucky’s spit on his bottom lip. He felt his stomach drop as he saw Cas watch him do it. But gave him a weak smile.  
  
“He uh. He won't be back.” Dean lied.  
Sam rolled his eyes as they both walked into the room, shutting the door. “Just like that, huh?” Sam said, sounding sarcastic.   
“Dean, are you still in trouble?” Cas’ sweet voice with a hand on Dean’s shoulder. His rich blue eyes sparkling with concern.  
Dean only pursed his lips, “No Cas, I’m fine.”  
Cas eyed him, “No Dean, you’re not fine.” Dean felt annoyance, while only small, it was there. “Seriously Cas, you’re gonna act like you give a crap now?”  
Cas just kept the same, worried look on him. “I’ve always cared, Dean.”  
“Yeah?” Dean laughed once, backing away from him. “Well heavens more important to you, obviously.” Dean made his way to the bathroom, opening the door and shutting it behind him. He glanced to the small-ish window by the toilet. He looked at it, studying it as he grew realization that that's how Bucky was getting inside. He felt a flutter of excitement at the thought.  
  
There was a soft knock on the door. “Dean? There was Cas’ voice.  
Dean leaned down on the sink, closing his eyes. “Yeah, Cas.” The sound of the bathroom door opening. Dean looked up in the mirror, seeing Cas behind him. The same, sad, worried look in his eyes. Cas shut the door. “Dean.. I’m sorry. So sorry.” Dean watched on. “I wish I could’ve come to you sooner. I wish I didn't leave.”  
Dean sighed. “But you had too, right?” Dean turned around, leaning his back against the sink and folding his arms. “C’mon man, you can do better than that.”   
Cas gave him a heart breaking look, his hands coming to rest on Dean’s forearm. “Please Dean, you have to understand. I had no control of this. I was called for in Heaven. I can't deny the call, Dean.” He moved closer. “I'm sorry, but I heard you. I know something's wrong. Please, tell me everything.” Cas moved closer, raising a hand to Dean’s cheek. “Let me fix this.”  
  
Dean let him come closer, he let Cas touch him. He felt Cas’ hand slide up his arm and around his neck as Dean let his arms fall, then wrapping around Cas’ back. Dean felt Cas press into him, now hugging him tightly. “I'm sorry Dean.” His gravelly voice was soft.   
Dean hugged onto him, tears filling his eyes suddenly as the feeling of finally, finally having Cas with him hit home. His heart started to beat faster as he realized, he and Cas were finally together. He leaned forward, standing up as he wrapped his arms tighter around Cas, pulling him flush with his body. He let a couple of tears fall as he held him. Cas’ arms were warm around his neck.  
  
Dean breathed him in, tucking his face into Cas’ neck. “I needed you, Cas.” Is all he said.  
Cas moved from the hug, pulling back slowly as he looked into Dean’s eyes. “I know. Please,” Cas brang his lips slowly to Dean’s, pressing them gingerly against his once. “What happened?” He pulled away.   
Dean didn't know what to say. He barely knew how to begin. “The night you were meant to meet me, in the back streets.” Dean began, trailing off as he looked at Cas’ lips. “He, Bucky. He.. “ Dean felt the tears fall from his eyes. “It.. look, the details don't matter. He hurt me Cas. He just.. He just hurt me. And he shouldn't've. Because you were meant to be there.” Dean bit his lip, stilling the tears in his eyes. _You fucking coward._ Dean thought to himself. _Cas deserves to know the truth, yet here you are, not telling him what he’s done._  
“Dean, why would you want me to help someone who hurt you?” Is all Cas said in return. “You should want him dead. You do, don't you?” Cas tilted Dean’s face up by his chin. “He hurt you, Dean. The details don't matter to me. If he hurt you, that's all I need to know.” Cas pressed his forehead to Dean’s. “You don't need to tell me at all if you don't want too.” Cas said, and it absolutely crushed him inside. Dean felt the guilt pressing in his chest.  
  
He looked up at Cas and brang his face closer to his and kissed him softly. “He’s gone, Cas. That’s all you need to know.” He said breathlessly through kisses. “Just.. don't leave just yet.” Dean brang both his hands to his face, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. He felt Cas fall compliant, his body leaning into Dean as the kiss grew faster. “I have to go.” Cas sighed against his lips as Dean moved down his neck. “Heaven is summoning me. Dean-” Dean pressed his hard cock against Cas’ hip, trapping a moan from Cas as he kissed him, pulling at his bottom lip. “Dean,” Cas moaned, pleading.   
“Just stay.” Dean whispered, nipping at the side of his mouth. “You just got here, please-” Dean begged, running his hands over Cas’ chest, “please.” he whispered against his mouth. “Stay with me.” Dean ran his hand up to Cas’ hair, running his hand through the back of his hair and pulling him back in for a kiss.   
  
Cas’ moaned low, frowning into the kiss as he reluctantly put his hands on Dean’s and slowly pried himself away from him. “I'm sorry Dean, I have to go..” Cas pulled away, taking a step away and giving Dean the most sorry look he could conjure. Dean winced, before nodding. “When will you be back?” Dean leaned back against the sink, arms folding over his chest once more.   
“When Heaven calls me off duty. I don't know how long this will take. But I will come back when I can, know that Dean.” Cas promised. “I’ll hear you if you pray.” Cas moved closer once more, placing a kiss to Dean's forehead. Lingering for a moment, Dean closed his eyes as he felt his lips on him. He wanted him to stay, he wanted to feel safe with him. “I love you, Dean.” Cas whispered. Dean pulled on his jacket with one fist, gripping it tightly. “I love you too, Cas.” He whispered back, hearing the sound of fluttering wings and suddenly the material vanishing within his hand. He was now alone.   
  
He looked around the room, it was silent. He felt the tears come back as he cried silently. He didn't know just how alone he really was. He finally saw Cas, he was finally with him again and he spent it trying to help the one person who has fucked up Dean’s life the most right now? What is happening to him? He shouldn't want to help Bucky.  Cas was right, he _should_ want him dead! But of course, his mind just couldn't think that. When he began to think of Bucky, he still felt the fear. He felt the fear of what he’s feeling towards him and it scared him so much. Cas is the one thing in his life that he’s ever truly fallen in love with. He’s the one person who made him feel good, made him feel strong. When Cas made love to Dean, it was pure. Rich with passion and he loved the way Cas would hold onto him, drink in his moans as he would writhe beneath him. But that’s just it, he was sweet. Soft, kind, gentle. He cared for Dean more than Dean could even fathom, Dean knew that.  
  
But Bucky knew how to make him feel… really good. Bucky put fear, pain and down right raw heat to the table. Dean was beginning to realize just how much he liked the idea of Bucky’s ways. Bucky didn't care if he hurt him, he didn't care to ask. When Bucky looked down at Dean, he saw nothing but fire in his eyes. He would fuck Dean, hard and fast. It has barely been a week since he first encountered him, and he was beginning to fear that he was falling for the thrill. Dean couldn't believe what he was thinking, he couldn't believe he was starting to feel the excitement just at the thought of him. His brain told him that he was wrong, so wrong to feel this way. He’s sick, downright _demented_ to start feeling this way for someone who is as dangerous as Bucky.  
  
That’s when he made the ultimate decision. He turned and looked into the mirror, staring at his red, puffy eyes. He saw the last tear fall down his face as he wiped it away and sniffed.   
_This is it_. He thought. _Next time Bucky comes, tell him you don't want this. Tell him, make him know you don't want this. You never have! Tell him you’re done._  
  
He nodded at himself in the mirror once, before straightening up and taking a deep breath. That felt good. Yes, he could do this. He felt confident as he moment passed. He was feeling good about this. He’ll do it for Cas. Not just himself, but because it’s what Cas would want of him. Cas would believe in him, and he will alright. He gave himself a weak smile. _You’re Dean fucking Winchester._ He said to himself. _Start acting like him again._ _  
_ __  
With that, he left the bathroom.  
Sam didn't ask about Cas, and they talked about the situation. Dean told him he no longer was going to see Bucky. Which wasn't all a lie, he knew Bucky was coming back. But with his new found strength, he felt confident. He told Sam that while they talked, he told Bucky there was no hope for him and there was nothing he could do for him. He said Bucky bought it, and wanted to leave. Sam looked a little stunned, but he seemed to have believed Dean.   
  
The day went on, and Sam was starting to relax. Dean started packing the guns up in the trunk of the impala again, putting the rest in the duffle bags and hanging out with Sam for the rest of the day.   
  
Sam mentioned something about a new case in Brooklyn, and that they should really leave and work. He said they should leave the day after tomorrow. Dean of course, agreed. Sam said nothing more about Bucky. Dean kept thinking about him though, thinking of when he’ll see him again.  
  
That night, Dean slept without Bucky coming to him, which he expected. He didn't think Bucky would come back that day, so he slept well. He and Sam ate before bed and Dean was starting to feel okay. He drifted off to sleep, and dreamt of nothing. He didn't pray to Cas, he merely slept with confidence, and for once. No tears in his eyes, or overwhelming panic in his stomach.


	6. Colours

It was lunch time the very next day. The last day infact, of staying at this horrible hotel. Bucky hadn't come to him at all, not a trace or a single sign of him anywhere.  _ Maybe he really is leaving me alone, _ Dean briefly thought to himself. But, he knew it wasn't true. Bucky would be back, when or where, he didn't know.    
  
He told Sam he was going to the bakery in the complex next to the gas station. It was a 5 minute walk, but Dean felt the need to finally leave the hotel room and get some fresh air.    
When he started the walk, he knew it was a gloomy day. The clouds hung heavy and dark in the sky and thunder rolled through the clouds as he was halfway there. When it began to lightly rain, Dean threw his hood up on his jacket and quickened his pace towards the complex. He had to walk around the block, which had abandoned houses all around him. He was by the main road that the hotel ran off, but was closed in by a large six foot fence with bushes and trees lining it, hiding the road and attempting to hide the traffic noise. On the opposite side of the fence, was another six foot fence which hid the abandoned houses. The road was quiet, trapped between the tall thick fences as he continued to walk.    
  
Tucking his hands in his jacket pockets, he shivered as a breeze rolled past him. The rain droplets speckling his face as he felt the chill of the weather through his clothing. He realized that maybe going for a walk was a bad idea, but he kept on walking down the quiet footpath and past the trees.    
  
He was lost in thought, not paying attention when a pair of footsteps were heard walking behind him. He glanced over his shoulder quickly, and when he did he saw the person right behind him. Just as he went to turn his face back around, the person grabbed him by the shoulder. Dean stumbled a little as the person pulled him back into the tree line, throwing him up against the six foot tin fence line. He hit it with a loud bang, his back muscles clenching as he felt the cold hardness of the tin. Tree branches and twigs clung to his jacket as he tried to look past his hood, which had become askew in front of his face. He reached up, pulling the hood halfway off when the person in front of him suddenly became clear as the moved through the leaves.   
  
“Bucky?” Dean said, feeling the rain fall lightly down on him still under the cover of the tree’s around them. Bucky walked up to him, wrapping his hands around Dean’s waist, closing the distance as he rushed his mouth to his lips. Dean kissed back, feeling a rush of excitement light up within him. He opened his mouth for him, and he licked along the side of Bucky’s tongue. Tasting him, and God,  _ he tasted good _ . But then he remembered, he was supposed to be done with Bucky.   
  
He pushed back suddenly, and with a little too much strength as he pushed his hands against Bucky’s chest. Bucky took a step back, his hair flicking around his face as he stood before him. His lips glistening with Dean’s spit, his eyes sparkling with want as he looked at him with slight confusion. Dean could almost make out a flash of irritance, but saw it quickly vanished.   
  
Dean brang a hand to his mouth, wiping his bottom lip as he spoke. “Bucky, I can't see you anymore.” He swallowed, looking at him through the hood of his jacket. “I’m leaving.”   
Bucky said nothing as he breathed before him, his shoulders squaring a little as he took slow breaths between parted lips. “I’ll follow you.” He said simply, his voice toneless.   
Dean scratched his brow, shifting against the fence. “No.. no. I can't see you at all.” Dean said, “We’re done,” He looked up at Bucky, who had taken a step closer to him. His expression dark, but remaining calm. “You got what you wanted.. We tried, at least. There’s nothing more we can do, man.” Dean’s voice quivered a little as he finished the sentence.    
Bucky stood still, his gaze never leaving Dean’s. “Is that what you want?” He moved even closer. Dean set his jaw. He had to answer this properly, he couldn't tell him the truth.  _ Which was what exactly?  _ With a deep sigh, Dean spoke. “Yeah. Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I never wanted any of this, you know that.” Dean set his jaw again. Bucky nodded once, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed. “This’ because your boyfriend's back?”   
Dean frowned up at him, annoyance flooding his face. “You know what, fuck you.” Dean said.   
Bucky had his fingers tightly gripping his chin in his hand within a second after he said it. “You got a mouth on you.” Bucky dug his fingers harder into his chin as he winced up at him. “Let go of me,” Dean said through gritted teeth, suddenly feeling a small dose of danger run through him.    
Bucky moved closer, raising his metal arm next to Dean’s head as he leaned in front of Dean. “Is it because of him, or not?” He said with a dry voice.   
  
Dean winced again, looking into Bucky’s icey eyes. “No it’s not.” He said, his top lip twitching a little. Bucky released his chin, moving his hand to cup Dean’s jaw. “Did you tell him?” Bucky leaned closer. Dean hesitated before he heard a loud, thunderous rumble in the sky above. It didn't match the darkness looming over him in the form of Bucky, and it freaked him out. “No I didn't, will you quit asking me?” Dean shot back, suddenly feeling trapped. “Stop changing the subject, it's got nothing to do with him. I'm done with you.” Dean said, his voice agitated.    
Bucky let out a small laugh, his voice throaty as he smirked at him. “I'm not done with you?” Bucky said with humor. Dean swallowed, feeling caught. “Please Bucky. I don't want this.” Suddenly Dean’s demeanour changed as he realized just how serious Bucky was.    
  
Bucky shifted, leaning closer to Dean’s face as he moved his hand from Dean’s jaw to the fence behind him, now having both hands by his head. Dean noticed just how thick Bucky was. His arms were bulging in his leather jacket.  _ He does wear normal clothes, _ Dean thought briefly. His chest was wide, well muscled. He’d never noticed Bucky’s physique before. He snapped out of it when Bucky licked his top lip slowly. Dean watched his tongue, lick the shape of his plump upper lip in the most erotic way. He did it so slowly, Dean felt his breath hitch in his throat. He flickered his eyes up to look at Bucky’s eyes once more, which were cast down at him. “I’ll tell you what,”   
  
Dean squinted up at him, suddenly noticing the weather turning worse by the minute. The trees were sheltering them from the harder rainfall, but Dean was beginning to feel the water soak his back and his shoulders. He noticed Bucky’s hair becoming damp, forming thick strands of hair around his face. “I’ll leave you Dean. I won't ever come back to you again.” Bucky leaned in finally, pressing a small kiss to the side of Dean’s mouth. Dean stilled, he stiffened. Unsure how to move. “If,-” Bucky said, slowly pressing his body closer to Dean’s.    
“If what?” Dean finally said. It was barely audible as he shut his eyes.    
“If,-” Bucky’s tongue graced Dean’s bottom lip as he shivered. “I,-” Bucky’s sharp teeth on his lip, nipping him. “Fuck you,” He whispered against his cheek. “And you don't.,” Bucky’s hard dick pressing against his thigh, “enjoy it.”    
  
He felt Bucky’s hand grip the back of his hair as he was suddenly pushed up hard against the fence once more. This time, Bucky’s arms were holding him still as he pressed him firmly against it. He kissed him, rough and hard. It was all tongue, it was his hot mouth invading his, and Dean moaned into it. Bucky drank up the moan, running his real hand up Dean’s jacket, passed his shirt and moving to his stomach. Dean moaned again, feeling breathless and completely compliant under Bucky as his fingers moved up to Dean’s nipple, giving it a quick flick before he rolled the sensitive nub between his fingers, and Dean really let a moan fall from his mouth.    
  
He felt Bucky smile against him.  _ Smug bastard.  _ This is what Bucky wants, and he felt the words he just said sink in. He felt distress take him as he felt his cock harden in his pants. Bucky was feeling him, running his hand over his hard nipples, leaving goosebumps on his skin as he felt him up. “Bucky-” Dean moaned, it wasn't meant to be one, he meant it more as a warning. But Bucky was kissing him, his mouth was on his and it was happening so fast. Dean wanted to escape, but he also wanted to put his hands on Bucky. He wanted to finally feel him too. He kept his hands to his sides as he fought a battle inside his head.    
  
Dean kissed him back, just as eagerly. He was frowning,  _ he was so fucked. _ Bucky pulled his lips away from Dean’s, and he couldn't help it but keen for him. “Well look at that,” He said, his voice was gritty. “I don't even need to fuck you. You’re already enjoying this.” Bucky stated, gripping Dean’s hair tighter as Dean whimpered. “Seriously. Screw you, Bucky.” Dean said, his irritance coming back at full swing. “You will.” Bucky growled.   
Bucky’s mouth was back to his and he didn't think the kiss could deepen, but he was so wrong. Bucky moaned this time. he moaned a deep, low sound into Dean’s mouth as he ground his hips into Dean’s. Dean felt a rush of thrill run through him as he felt Bucky’s dick push into his own. He couldn't help it. With a frustrated groan, a frown on his brow he finally brang his hands to Bucky’s waist. He instantly put his hands under his clothes and felt his hard, soft skin. Dean felt the grooves of his muscles, his abs quivering as his skin reacted to his fingers. Dean felt the smooth, defined dip of the V that made up his hips to his groin. He heard Bucky moan again, pushing into his hands.   
  
Dean felt a hot breath slip from his own mouth as Bucky moved to his neck, nipping his skin and sucking a bruise. Dean rolled his head to the side, allowing Bucky more access as he held onto Bucky, feeling a slight breeze roll past them, chilling the hot air around them. When Bucky dropped to his knees, Dean blinked down at him. His hands fell to his sides as Bucky cast his eyes up at him under all that messy hair. Bucky ran his metal hand up to to rest on Dean’s abdomen, pressing him firmly against the fence. He watched, taking his bottom lip into his mouth as Bucky gave him one last small, cocky smile before using his free real hand to open Dean’s jeans with ease.    
  
Bucky pulled Dean’s pants down to his knees, running his hand over his outer thigh as he pressed his cheek to Dean’s hard member in his underwear. Dean shivered, the cold brisk air hitting his skin on his legs as little flecks of raindrops fell around them. Dean made a noise, a deep groan from his chest as Bucky ran his hot, moist mouth against his length through the material of his underwear. He flashed his eyes up at him as he filthily flicked his tongue against the head of his dick, before wrapping his hot mouth over it. Dean moaned, felt his hips jerk as he relished in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on his eager dick.   
  
Dean’s breath was coming in rapidly as he watched the display between his legs that Bucky was making. He felt his shoulders fall forward a little, before Bucky’s strong metal arm whirred, the plates shifting, water gathering in the grooves and falling to the ground as he pushed harder against Dean. Ultimately moving him to press into the fence even more before his arm stopped making noises and settled again.    
  
Dean jerked his hips against Bucky’s practised mouth. Bucky’s hand came to hold Dean’s hot member through the material, stilling it as he wrapped his lips around the shaft, leaving a moist trail along the cotton. “Shit,” Dean breathed.   
  
Bucky glanced up, smiling under his brow as he pulled Dean’s underwear slowly down to his knees. When his dick was free, it bounced against Bucky’s lips. Bucky ran his lips against the head, holding his cock at the base as he licked the swollen pink tip with a slow flick of his tongue. “Tell me to stop,” Bucky’s voice was like honey. Rich with heat. “C’mon Dean, tell me you don't want to fuck my mouth,” Bucky squeezed his dick, looking up at him as he mouthed against the shaft, leaving small suctioned kisses along the length.   
Dean winced, he felt his cock throb, his dick was begging to be sucked. He pulled his hands into fists as he watched Bucky tease his stimulated dick.    
Bucky smiled against it, before he flashed his eyes down and moved his mouth to the tip of Dean’s leaking dick. “Tell me to do it.” He said, pausing to let the tip hang on Bucky’s lower lip as he moved closer.   
Dean shivered as the thunder boomed around them, the wind picking up in the tops of the tree’s as rain began to fall harder once more.    
“Fuck my mouth.” Bucky all but moaned, opening his mouth just as Dean jerked his hips, pushing his cock into Bucky’s awaiting wet mouth.   
  
Bucky immediately sucked his length, his tongue holding the weight of his dick as he began to move his head back and forth. He sucked him wet, and fast. Dean moaned, letting his head fall back against the fence as he felt the slick warmness engulf his responsive cock. He closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock sliding into his hot and eager mouth.   
  
The metal arm gripped his jacket, pulling him forward slightly before slamming him back against the fence once more. Dean’s eyes flew open as it happened, looking down at Bucky with widened eyes and a slack mouth. He panted as Bucky pulled of his cock with a wet pop. “Eyes on me.” Bucky ordered, before licking his swollen lips and going back to work, sucking hard and fast. Dean grunted, unclenching his fists to let one hand fall in Bucky’s mess of hair. He gripped him, holding onto his head as he began to jerk his hips into his mouth. Timing every bob of his head to his thrust as Bucky didn't even choke, didn't gag and took his dick in long drags. Dean’s eyes never left his face.   
  
Bucky groaned deep in his throat as he gripped Dean’s hip with his real hand. His cheeks hollowing out as he looked up at Dean, his ice blue eyes observing him. “Oh fuck, Bucky,-” Dean moaned, feeling the rush of pleasure rise up his dick, making his cock throb inside his mouth.    
Bucky pulled back, licking the head as he sucked Dean’s pre-come off the tip. “You like this, Dean?” Bucky snickered, licking his tongue around the pulsing head. “You like fucking my mouth like this?” Bucky made a show of sucking, licking and leaving his spit all over his dick.    
Dean moaned, low and gritty in his throat as he frowned, feeling his orgasm so close just watching Bucky tease his dick. He squeezed the base once more, sucking his whole length again and letting spit fall from his mouth as he pushed back down over his member.    
  
It was the most filthy, dirtiest thing Dean’s ever witnessed. Watching Bucky slave over his cock, with hungry eyes and spit falling from his lips. Dean gripping his hair, holding tightly as he began to pump his cock into Bucky’s mouth faster. Bucky only looked up, his eyes burning as he let Dean fuck into his mouth. Dean breathed hard, his hips now jerking erratically as Bucky sucked his dick to no avail. “Fuh-fuck, Bucky. I’m gonna-,” Dean moaned, looking into Bucky’s eyes. Bucky moaned low, his voice vibrating around his dick and it was too much. It was  _ too much _ , he was reaching the height of pleasure. “I’m gonna come,” Dean moaned, his mouth opening as he felt the rush of his orgasm.   
  
Just as Dean gripped Bucky’s hair tighter, suddenly the warm, wet mouth was gone. Dean felt himself jerk forward as he watched Bucky retreat his mouth. Bucky’s left shoulder moved back, his metal arm whirring to life once more as he gripped his jumper again, really pushing him back against the fence. “You don't come, until you tell me you want this.” Bucky said, his metal arm locking in place as he held Dean’s weight. Dean stared down at him, his cock throbbing, pulsing as it begged to be sucked again. Dean whined, swallowing hard as he watched Bucky waiting. “Just say it Dean, and I’ll let you come.” Bucky’s lips made their way back to his dick, his tongue licking against the head. And there it was, the warm wetness Dean was craving, he could almost shatter.   
  
“Okay, okay-” Dean breathed. Bucky glanced up, stilling as he ran his real hand underneath Dean’s length to cup his balls. “Say it.” Bucky’s voice was soft, his lips gracing his cock. “Say it.” Bucky said again, only this time, his mouth covering just the head of his dick. Dean moaned again, his breath coming out fast. “I want it.” Dean moaned. “Please, let me-” Bucky’s mouth was back to work instantly. Sucking his length deep down his throat, pulling all the way to his sensitive head and slicking his tongue under the glands.   
  
Dean felt his body go slack as he felt the unbelievable pleasure fill his cock, right to the tip. He moaned a hot, wordless plea as he gripped Bucky’s hair tightly, his hips rolling his straining cock inside his skilled mouth.    
  
With a drawn out, breathless moan, Dean came inside Bucky’s mouth. He trembled as he came, his cock pulsing as pleasure filled up inside him, making his legs feel weak as Bucky frowned around his dick, pulling his lips tightly along his length as he licked up the last of Dean’s come, and swallowed.    
  
Dean was still high in the feeling when Bucky tucked his semi hard cock back into his pants, buttoning them up and standing before him. Dean was out of breath as he felt wobbly on his legs, leaning as much as he could against the fence as he looked at Bucky through hooded eyes. Bucky moved his face close to his, pressing his spit and come slick mouth to Dean’s lips. Dean moaned once more, his hands coming to pull Bucky close by his jacket, opening his mouth and tasting himself in Bucky’s mouth. The kiss was short, but hot. Bucky licked Dean’s top lip as he withdrew from the kiss, fisting Dean’s jacket in his metal hand.   
  
Dean stared at him, not knowing what to do or say. He just  _ stared _ at him, letting his breath come in hard as he tried to catch it. “What now?” Dean breathed.   
Bucky ran a hand through the side of his hair, and god, Dean loved it when he did that. But he said nothing, just cast his eyes to the side of him.    
“I’m still leaving.” Dean said, his vision becoming less clouded by recent orgasm.    
Bucky squinted at him, his jaw setting as his face fell into thought. “Where exactly?” Bucky said.   
Dean hesitated. While that may have been the best blow job he’s had in a while, he remembered the real reason for this. He suddenly felt the spike of confidence and suddenly a voice spoke in his mind.  _ Lie. _ _   
_ _   
_ “We’re going to Missouri. We have a case there.” Dean flat out lied. Finding his balance, he stood straight. No longer leaning against the fence. It almost happened on purpose, lightning lit up the sky as Bucky’s gaze darkened. Rain was really beginning to fall harder around them now.    
  
Bucky rushed him, holding his face with his metal fingers. “You know Dean, I’ve had just about enough of this.” Bucky growled.    
Dean shivered, hearing the rain hit ground harder now. “Enough of what?” Dean felt his face pull up into confusion. “What don’t you get Bucky? I’m done.” He said, his voice level, trying to sound as serious as possible.   
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Did you not just come down my throat?”   
Dean grunted, pain coming up from his fingers holding his face. Bucky waited. “You just said you wanted this.” Bucky’s top lip quivered. “Don't toy with me, Dean.”    
Dean shut his mouth, saying nothing.   
  
Bucky shoved his face out of his hand, gripping his wrist as he turned to walk away. Dean tried to yank his hand free, but his metal fingers only gripped tighter. Bucky yanked him to follow behind him, twisting his wrist in his metal hand. He felt a flurry of panic in his stomach, but he kept his cool. This is bad, he thought.  _ Just go with it, you’ll be okay. _ _   
_   
Bucky’s shoulders were broad, wide as he walked in front of Dean through the leaves and bushes and to the main road again. It was darker now, the dark heavy clouds hung to low in the sky as the rain fell down around them. Bucky’s jacket and hair was becoming so saturated, he didn't even look cold. “Stop, wait man-” Dean tried, stumbling after him as Bucky pulled him along briskly across the road. “Where are you we going?”   
  
Dean shivered, following behind him reluctantly towards a small, run down abandoned house directly in front of where they came out from. Dean glanced back, looking where they just were. It was so well hidden, it made him feel a little better. He looked past Bucky, to the fallen down fence around the wooden, cracked house. The windows were smashed, the veranda was falling apart and the paint was either nonexistent, or cracked and chipped. There were dead tree’s all around the house, with dead plants and twigs everywhere. This house was downright creepy, and Dean knew that feeling all too well.    
  
As they approached the door, which had a hole down the bottom corner, Dean finally spoke again. “Bucky, listen, I-” Bucky didn't even turn back when he spoke. “It’s time I show you want you really want.”   
  
  
  
Dean was thrown to the cold, dusty floor as soon as they entered the run down house. Dean stumbled, losing his footing as Bucky swung him around, pushing him down as he slammed the already broken door. Dean hit the floor hard, his hands breaking his fall as he fell on his side. He winced in pain as he felt his shoulder take the brunt of the fall.    
  
Inside the house was empty. As soon as they entered, Dean noticed the open living space full of broken planks of rotting wood. The roof was caved in, there were stains all over the walls and flooring. It smelled of damp wood, rain and dirt.   
  
He looked at Bucky from the ground, dread filling his stomach as he watched Bucky stalk over to him, kneeling down beside him. “Just let me go,” Dean said in a small voice. Bucky said nothing as he reached for Dean’s jacket, hauling him up to stand in one swift movement. Dean gripped onto Bucky’s arms, feeling the strength and raw power of the metal arm taking most of his weight as he lifted him to stand. Dean stumbled again, feeling Bucky pushing him back. “Bucky, wait-” Dean protested, feeling his back hit the wall behind him. He let out a huff of air as his eyes widened, watching Bucky hold him still. His mouth curling into a snarl as he raised his metal fist in the air, before pausing. Dean held his breath as he realized, Bucky was just about to hit him.   
  
Dean flinched, waiting for his metal fist to meet his face when the moments went on, and Bucky didn't move. He looked up at Bucky under his lashes, seeing him standing in front of him like an enraged lion. Bucky was panting, rage written on his face. Dean swallowed thickly, slowly raising a hand to Bucky’s cheek as the fighting urge to  __ runrunrun repeated in his mind.   
  
Bucky’s frown faltered a little. His eyes still dark, as he stared at Dean.    
Dean said nothing as he waited, and time seemed to pass so slowly before he removed his hand, sliding it down Bucky’s neck cautiously. Gingerly, as the adrenaline pumped in his veins.    
“You don't have to do this.” Dean said, feeling his voice shake.   
  
Dean was suddenly thrown to the ground once again. It happened so fast, he felt his stomach flutter on the impact of the hard flooring. He grunted, feeling his shoulder pop as the impact hit him in the same spot as before. Searing pain shot through his shoulder and into his collarbone. His eyes landed on Bucky, his pain momentarily leaving his mind for a moment as he watched Bucky unbuckling his belt and jeans.    
  
Dean felt himself sprawl into himself, backing up, struggling to find his grip as he floundered on the ground. His heart was pumping in his chest as he watched Bucky follow him. “Bu-Bucky, no, please just wait a minute-” He tried, backing up on his hands as he reached the wall, pressing into it as he looked up at him.   
  
Bucky was in a blind rage, and Dean had never really seen him at this intensity, and it struck pure fear right back into him.    
  
Bucky leaned down, pulling at Dean’s legs to slide him closer as he leant over him. Dean raised his hands, placing them on Bucky’s chest as he trembled, Bucky just kept his eyes on him as he grabbed at his pants. “Bucky stop!” Dean yelled this time, as Bucky batted his hands away, pulling Dean’s pants down with one, swift, strong move of his real arm.    
  
But that’s just it, wasn't it. Dean knew Bucky was so fucking strong. Even without the metal arm, Bucky’s muscular build wasn't just for show.   
  
Dean grunted, finding himself out of breath. Bucky now looming over him, he let out a sound as Bucky’s fingers pulled at the hem of his jeans, not opening the buttons or zipper and absolutely wrenching his jeans down his thighs. When Bucky pulled them down, Dean was still trying to pry Bucky’s hands off him when he was suddenly flipped on his stomach. Dean made a frightened noise as his head hit the wall. His hands fumbling underneath him, trying to move up when he felt a hand at the nape of his neck, pushing him into the decaying floor boards. Dean whimpered, feeling Bucky’s metal hand rip Dean’s underwear clean along his ass.    
  
Within a second, Bucky was over his back. Dean heard him spit on his hand as he shut his eyes, his hand coming to rest on the wall, feeling his forehead pressing hard into the scratchy paint as he felt Bucky’s dick at his entrance. With a small whine, he felt Bucky push inside him. 

  
It wasn't slow, it wasnt careful as Bucky began to slide his dick in with fast, stuttering movements. His groin snapping into his ass, Dean felt the pain rise around his hole as he let out a cry, feeling Bucky pump mercilessly into him. Bucky’s fingers dug into the back of Dean’s neck. When Dean tried to move, his shoulder sprung out in terrible pain. He let out another cry as Bucky’s dick slid harder and harder into him.   
  
With a sudden burst of pleasure, Dean lolled his head against the wall. He didn't make another noise as Bucky grunted above him, holding him down and filling him inside. Dean could feel tears in his eyes as the burning pain of stretching around Bucky’s thick cock began to waver, and pleasure began to spill through him.    
  
Bucky moved so fast as he gripped Dean by his hips, maneuvering himself to pull Dean back and up onto his knees, pushing his back down so he was now bent over in front of him. Dean stopped breathing as he felt Bucky reposition, then began to snap his cock hard and fast inside him again.    
  
Dean felt his body shudder, the pain giving way as every moment passed and pleasure rolled through him. Bucky would slam into him, huffing from behind and grinding his groin against his ass with every thrust. Dean let his head drop between his shoulders as a powerful burst of blinding pleasure rolled up his stomach and straight to his rising cock.   
  
Bucky’s voice was husky, deep and full of grit when he spoke, moaning after. “This is how you like it,” Bucky panted, pulling Dean’s hips back into his cock. “You fucking love it.”   
Dean felt the tears finally fall. Because, yes. He did  _ fucking love it.  _ All Dean did in response, was raise his head and turn to look back at Bucky as he let out a long, quivering moan, squinting up at him as Bucky’s dick began to throb inside him, further sending pleasure inside his groin and trailing into his now hard cock.   
  
Dean twisted over his shoulder, letting his pain filled shoulder drop forward as he reached to grip onto Bucky’s metal arm. He arched his back as he turned, looking up at Bucky and feeling his mouth slacken. Bucky was sweating, his gaze was fevered as he clenched his jaw. His nose flaring as he fucked into him.   
  
Dean gripped onto Bucky’s metal arm with all his might, raising his other arm to hold into the wall in front of him for balance as Bucky pounded roughly into him. His shoulder sprang in sheer blinding pain as he called out, crying and he let the pleasure behind the pain is his arm take over, screwing his eyes shut as the pain subsided and the euphoria of  _ fuckyes _ lit up inside him, causing his cock to throb. When he felt his cock pulse, feeling his orgasm rise at the base of his dick, he grit his teeth and looked up at Bucky.   
  
“You gonna’ come, already?” Bucky patronized, his voice breathy as he looked through his sweat matted hair. “Go on then,” Bucky moaned, undulating his cock in a circle, grinding into Dean’s hole with smooth snaps. “Come Dean, come for me.”   
Dean shuddered, biting his lip as he felt Bucky’s cock hit that spot inside him, and he could barely contain the noise that left his throat. He let out a strained noise, letting his mouth fall open. “Oh fuck, Bucky-”   
  
_ I’m so sorry Cas _ .   
  
Dean came, right on the wooden floor underneath him, without a hand around his throbbing cock as he came hard for the second time in ten minutes. He felt it roll through his body, his cock pulsing as he moaned loud, pressing into Bucky as he fucked him hard. Dean was shivering, his cock was so sensitive between his legs as he panted, feeling Bucky continue to fuck into him.   
“That’s it,” Bucky groaned. “Coming for me like that.” Bucky whispered as he reached down over Dean’s back, and began to fist Dean’s sore dick.    
  
“Mmn-ugh!” Dean whined as his cock twitched, Bucky’s hand running up and down the length as he still ruthlessly pistoned his cock inside him. It was all too much, Dean’s head was spinning so much, he almost couldn't breath from the high of his orgasm and now the over sensitive stimulation around his dick. He wanted to cry.    
“Feel that?” Bucky’s voice was breaking, his voice bouncing as he pounded him and ran his hand around Dean’s glistening, straining cock.   
Dean groaned, he looked at Bucky through pained eyes.   
“That’s all me.”    
  
“Dean?”   
  
Both their heads snapped behind Bucky’s shoulder, as Bucky suddenly stilled inside him.   
Dean felt his stomach drop, pure horror fill him as he saw the black haired, tan trenchcoated Angel standing behind Bucky with a downright hurt, pained and confused expression on his face.   
  
Bucky didn't move, he only gripped Dean’s hip tightly, digging his fingernails into his skin as he looked back at Cas. Dean blinked, catching his breath as he felt the violent urge to get away from Bucky sink into him.   
  
It was as if time stopped. Dean let out a small, shuddering breath as he felt Bucky snap his hips once, twice then pulse inside him. Bucky let out a groan, so deep and filled with raw heat as he came inside Dean, while Cas watched. Dean felt his eyes shut for a second, falling forward a little as Bucky pushed into him deeper, coming inside him and filling him with a fluttering pulse of pleasure as he held back a small moan.    
  
Dean’s eyes flickered open, staring back at Cas as he saw Bucky look at Dean, his hair shadowing his face as he smiled a dark, lazy smile at him. “Your Angel’s here.” Bucky’s voice was like a snake as it creeped up Dean’s skin.   
  
Dean watched Cas’ expression fall into fury, he moved towards Bucky as Dean flinched. He watched Cas gain on Bucky, ripping his shoulder back and pulling him up and out of Dean. Dean rolled over instantly, pulling his pants up and running a hand over his mouth and tucking himself up against the wall. He watched Cas throw Bucky down to the ground away from them both.   
  
Cas stood between Bucky and Dean. His stance was furious, hurt and absolutely ethereal. Dean glanced at Bucky, who was on his hands and knees, hair fallen all over his face as he slowly made his way to stand. His shoulders were hunched as he rose, turning and looking directly and Dean.    
“Your lover finally knows.” Bucky breathed.    
Cas said nothing.    
Dean held his breath.   
“Did you enjoy the show, Castiel?” Bucky squared up. “Did you enjoy seeing him come for me?” Bucky took a step closer, and Dean saw Castiel stand taller. “Did you enjoy hearing my name on those lips?”   
  
A hand wrapped around Bucky’s throat, and suddenly Bucky was choking, looking down at Cas with a humoured gaze.    
Cas pulled his knife from his jacket, placing it at the jugular vein on Bucky’s neck as the room suddenly became electric. Cas cut a thin, small cut from the beginning of his jaw down to his collar bone. As quickly as it happened, Bucky let out a yell and blood began to seep down his neck. Dean was at his feet within a second, suddenly aware of what Cas was doing. He ran up behind Cas as he watched, placing an urgent hand on Cas’ arm.   
“Cas!” Dean yelled, fear laced in his voice. Cas ignored him, his eyes dark as he looked at Bucky who had both his hands around Cas’ wrist. Bucky stared down, letting small gurgling noises out of this throat as he tried to breathe, his face going red.   
“Cas!” Dean yelled once more, gripping Cas’ coat in his hands as he came around to stand just off to the side of him, in between him and Bucky. “Stop!”    
Cas finally locked his eyes on Dean, confusion in his eyes. “Why?” Cas kept the blade to Bucky’s throat. Dean glanced at him, looking at the small not-so-deep cut down his neck. The blood was seeping from the wound and running down his chest, but it wasn't as life threatening as Dean thought.    
“I can't kill him.” Cas said, his voice deep. “But I can sure as hell hurt him.”    
“No, Cas, please just-” Dean hesitated, watching Cas’ face fall into pure hatred and hurt. “Please let him go.”   
  
Bucky made a choking sound, his eyes shutting half lidded as his breathing began to labour.   
Dean looked back at him, watching Bucky’s gaze drift off.   
“Cas!” Dean shook him, urgency rifling through him.    
With a hurt, sad look Cas let Bucky go. Bucky fell to the floor, sputtering for breath as he reached around his throat.    
  
Dean moved directly in front of Cas, looking him in the eyes as tears welled up.   
Cas said nothing, looking at Dean with a hurt, down right despairing expression.   
“Why, Dean?”    
Dean clenched his jaw, looking at Cas with sorrow in his gut. He let tears fall from his eyes. “I don't know.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.” He reached for his face, when Cas quickly gripped his wrist, giving him a warning look.    
“Don't,” Cas stepped back.   
“Please, Cas!” Dean begged, following him as he backed away. “Please-” he cried.   
  
Cas stopped, letting his eyes fall to Bucky on the ground. “Is he what you want?” Cas said, looking back up at him.   
Dean flinched at his words, “No!” Dean reached for his face when Cas pushed him back.    
“Dean, don't.” He warned, sadness lacing his words. He paused before his jaw clenched, his mouth forming a sad line. “I heard you.”    
Dean gave him a confused look under his tears. “Heard me..-” Dean trailed off, “Heard me when?”    
“Just now.” Cas stated, his eyes hurt.   
  
Dean ran a hand through his hair as he wiped his eyes, realizing. He had just sent a small prayer to him right before he came, his apology disgraced.   
  
Dean said nothing as he cried, watching Cas before him. When he heard Bucky cough, he glanced down, tearing his eyes away from Cas. He looked down and saw Bucky’s hands covered with blood, he was shaking as he began to sit up.    
  
Dean didn't move, he didn't go to Bucky, he didn't go to Cas either. His body was screaming to go to Cas, begging his legs to move. But he was stuck. He couldn't even think as he looked at Bucky’s bleeding neck. When Bucky glanced up at Dean, it was the first time Dean saw pure agony on his face. Dean let out a shuddering, heart breaking breath as he felt his legs give way and he fell to the ground, landing hard on his knees.   
  
Bucky made no move, he didn't make a sound as Dean reached a hand out to cup Bucky’s neck, pressing onto Bucky’s hand for extra pressure before looking up at Cas once more behind his teary eyes.    
  
Cas looked at Dean with absolute sorrow. His expression was so broken as his blue eyes poured all the hurt out into Dean’s. His eyes left Dean’s to fall down on the ground.    
“I don't understand,” Cas shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “But I see you’ve made your choice.”    
  
Dean watched, “Cas, no-” Dean cried as suddenly, the flutter of heavy wings sounded around the broken down house. Dean blinked, feeling the empty void of fear fill him, his shame rising as he sobbed. Cas was gone.   
  
Dean blinked back his tears, feeling guilt wrack his body. He looked down at Bucky again who was breathing slowly, holding onto his still bleeding neck when his piercing, icey eyes flickered to his.   
“I’m sorry.” Dean said, his voice stilling as his voice evening out with gravel. “I can't do this.” Dean stood so fast, he felt dizzy. He gave Bucky one last look, watching Bucky purse his lips and swallow hard, confusion contorting his features.   
  
Dean left Bucky on the floor as he walked out the house and began to run. He stumbled down the steps as his adrenaline still pumped into his veins as he ran. He felt his breathing become harder and harder, his lungs filling as he ran as hard as he could down the road and back to the hotel. The rain was falling so hard now, puddles splashed with every step he took. The thunder roared above him as the rain drenched his body.    
  
He could barely see ahead of him as the rain poured fiercely down, blurring everything around him. He doesn't even know how he made his way back to the hotel, but when he reached the door he burst through with so much strength, he fell onto the wall inside the room.

  
Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, when he turned around to see an absolute drenched, wrecked and utterly destroyed Dean leaning against the wall.    
“Oh my God, Dean!” Sam was at him in an instant. “What happened?” Sam was holding him up to stand, looking into his face.    
Dean was crying, breathing hard as he looked up at Sam, feeling his eyes stinging from the water dripping into them. “We need to leave,” Dean breathed, hunching over and blinking hard.  “Now.”


	7. Somebody Else

They left within the hour of Dean coming home. He didn't put on fresh, dry clothes. He didn't bother with anything, except grabbing all his clothes from the drawers and packing up the guns. It was Sam who took the longest, making sure they had everything while Dean sat in the driver's seat. His hands were shaky, he had not a single tear in his eyes left as he sat waiting for Sam in the pouring rain. He didn't even turn the heaters on in the car. He just sat in his cold, drenched clothes as he listened to nothing but the rumble of the storm around him.   
  
Sam finally came into view as Dean looked through the windshield. He watched him haul two bags out on his shoulders, shut the door and make a run for the car. He swung the car door open, threw the two bags into the back seat and shut the door as Dean started the engine. Sam didn't even have his seatbelt on before Dean was reversing out the parking lot.   
  
They didn't speak. Sam glanced at him as they drove out the parking lot and onto the main road, leaving the hotel behind. Dean noticed him giving him a warm look, he knew Sam was so concerned for him at this point. And Dean couldn't speak. He physically couldn't. He didn't want too. He just wanted to leave, leave it all behind.   
  
Sam sighed, folded his arms and looked out the window. Dean felt relief, he knew Sam wouldn't push him. He knew that this was rock bottom. He knew it because Sam finally looked at him with nothing but love. It wasn't questioning, it wasn't with judgment.    
  
Dean drove for a little while, before he realized what part of the street he was in. Just over an hour ago, he was inside the approaching abandoned house, getting fucked while Cas watched on. He just witnessed Cas leave him, he realized that Cas probably won't come back, and Dean’s heart couldn't be more shattered.   
  
He glanced out the window, looking at the run down house as he drove past. He knew Bucky was just in there and,  _ could still be there _ . He was bleeding out from his neck and reaching for him. And he left him there.    
  
Dean made himself breathe evenly as he finally passed the house, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he drove on. He decided from this moment, from this very second onward that he was no longer going to think of Bucky. He glanced in his rearview mirror, looking at the tree’s where Bucky sucked him off, and made a mental note.  _ I am leaving you behind _ . He thought.  _ All I want is Cas. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.  _ He swallowed, wiping his wet hair back a little as he sniffed and looked back at the road before him.   
  
_ Cas- If you can hear me.. I know you can. Please, I’m so sorry. I made a mistake. I’ll give you time. We’re headed to Brooklyn, Sam says there's a case there. I’ll be waiting for you, I’ll be ready for you when you are ready for me, Cas. I love you. _ __   
  


  
  
  


The drive to the motel in Brooklyn was long, tiring and utterly exhausting. Dean drove most of the way, ensuring Sam he was fine to drive because in reality, he was. But he mostly wanted to drive to distract him from his mind. He drove for 8 hours straight that day. He had 6 coffee’s, ate junk food the entire way. He let Sam sleep half way through, listening to the storm continue on as it chased them with every town they passed.   
  
When they finally arrived, they paid for the nights they were expected to stay and made their way to the rooms. This time, they paid for a room each. It was Dean’s suggestion, even though Sam gave him a concerned look for a moment when he told the man behind the desk that two rooms would be great. He didn't interrupt Dean and smiled at the man when he was given his own key.    
  
It was late at night now as they walked together to the rooms that were side by side. The storm had finally stopped raging, but there was still heavy clouds hanging in the night sky. Room 12 was Sam’s, and room 13 was Dean’s. The doors were lit up with two lights above frames, making it easy to see around them. Dean didn't say a word to Sam as he lugged his two heavily packed duffle bags into the room, shutting the door behind him. He heard Sam do the same next door as he turned on the lights. The room was simple, small but it was enough. As Dean sat his bags down and made his way around the room, he took in the neatly made double bed, a small cabinet in the corner with a book shelf. There was no kitchen, as the kitchen was in the main lobby at the front desk. There was a small room at the back, with a toilet and small shower. Dean looked over the cracked screen of the shower cubicle, noticing the stains around the walls. Looks like it was rotting, but it wasn't the worst he has seen.   
  
Dean’s clothes were damp still in a few places, but he had eventually dried off during the trip. He took his shoes and socks off, putting them near his bed before throwing off his clothes and leaving them on the floor and making his way to the shower.

 

He showered the whole day away under the shitty, horribly pressured shower. It felt nice under the warm stream of water after being so cold all day. He stood there, eyes closed as he let the hot water warm up his body. He let the water run down his neck, his back and shoulders. Feeling the tension leave. His mind was trying desperately to show him flash pictures of a black haired angel and a bleeding superhuman but there was a black wall holding them away. He opened his eyes and turned the water off before he let the mental black wall crumble.

 

After washing himself and feeling warm, he dressed in a t-shirt and sweat pants. He didn't bother drying his hair because there was no hair dryer around anyway. So he towel dried it as best he could, before making his way to his bed. He plugged his phone in by the bedside table, then crawled into the bed.   
  
The bed was soft, to his surprise. He stretched underneath it, turning off the bedside lamp and falling into the darkness. The rain was back suddenly, and it began pouring down outside as he lay there, listening to it.   
A sense of calm washed over him, as he realized he was in some place new. He was away from the horrible events. He was away from it all. He was away from _him_. He felt himself sigh, telling himself it was going to be okay. He closed his eyes, listened to the rain and didn't feel like crying. He didn't feel like anything. He didn't _think_ of anything.   
  
His eyes fluttered open as he heard his phone buzz next to him. He felt his heart skip a beat when it happened, unprepared for the sudden noise. With a groan, he leaned over to grab his phone.  
  
As he squinted at the brightness, he noticed a text from Sam.  
  
 **Sam:**  
 _Hey man, how’s your room?_  
  
 **Dean:** **  
** _Yeah, it’s O.K. The bed’s actually pretty good. Shower sucks big time :/_  
  
He looked up at the ceiling, waiting for Sam’s reply. When his phone viabrated in his hand once more, he brang the phone back up to his face.  
  
 **Sam:**   
_Lol, yeah it’s the same for me. See ya 2morrow :)_  
  
 **Dean:**  
 _Night Sammy._  
  
 **Sam:**  
 _Gnite Dean._ _  
_ __  
Dean put his phone by his night stand once more, then rolled over onto his side. He let his eyes shut, and listened to the rain.  
  
It didn't take him long to drift to sleep, and when he did, he pictured a black night.  
The full moon was high in the sky, with not a cloud in sight. The ocean was rough though, but not storming. The waves weren't crashing together, but they were decent sized. He saw the glimmer of silver reflect off of every wave, and it was beautiful. He saw through the glinting silver, the deep rich, dark blue reflecting in the moonlight. He felt the waves crashing around him, but the water was so warm against the cold, ominous sky above him.  
  
While he drifted in the water, he didn't feel so alone as he dream went on. He felt a presence, he felt like someone or something was floating near him. But he couldn't see them as he looked around, treading the water. He looked over the waves, trying to spot movement. But there was nothing. No one.  
  
He yelled out, but realized he couldn't speak. It didn't alarm him, he wasn't frightened, but he didn't know why he couldn't speak. He felt his mouth working, his throat and tongue trying to make noise. Nothing but silence, the sound of waves rising around him and the sprinkle of water.   
  
He drifted in the ocean, knowing there was someone with him, but not knowing where or being able to speak to them. He felt alone, sad. But he didn't feel scared, even though he was telling himself he should be scared.  
  
The dream went on for a bit longer, before the whole scene disappeared completely and faded into nothingness.   
  


  
  
  


The next day, they both kicked it into high gear and staked out a vamps nest. It was easy, to say the least. It wasn't a big nest, and they had the element of surprise on their hands.    
  
Dean didn’t think of the two people behind the black wall in his mind, he didn't have a chance to. He took down every vamp with precision. He did gain a few bruises on his ribs from one vamp who fought back rather harshly, and he had to spring into a small round of hand to hand combat before Sam came from behind. Dean ducked in perfect timing to Sam swinging a blade straight across the vamps neck, ultimately beheading it in mere seconds. Dean was breathless when he gave Sam a nod in thanks, which Sam returned with a tap on the shoulder before continuing with the stake out.   
  
When they had come home, tired and completely exhausted, Dean fell face first into his bed and was out like a light. He slept all through the night without dreaming. He was so tired, and his back ached a little from the intense swinging of his arms. His ribs felt sore from the brutal blows that one vamp laid on him. Even landed one on his shoulder, which hurt like hell.   
  
He groaned when he woke the next morning. He felt surprisingly well rested as he stretched, realizing he was still in his shoes and heavy jacket. He rubbed his eyes as he got up, shrugging off his jacket and running a hand through his dirty hair as he walked across the room to the shower. He paused when he looked in the bathroom mirror. Turning his face sideways, he saw scuff marks on one side of his cheek and he had a cut above his brow. He rubbed his chin and cheek, making a note of needing to shave.

 

After a well needed shower and shave, he got dressed. He rolled his shoulder back once in pain when he shrugged on a grey hooded jacket.  _ That’ll take a week to heal,  _ he murmured to himself as he walked out the front door of his room.   
  
As he shut the door, he paused. He could hear Sam’s voice speaking behind the his door as he approached it. But there was another voice there too. Who the hell could Sam be possibly talking too? With confusion, Dean opened Sam’s room door and glanced inside.   
  
Dean felt time stop, the blood in his veins burned ice cold as he could swear his heart stopped beating in his chest for a split second as he looked into deep, rich blue eyes.   
  
“C-Cas?” Dean finally said, as he stood in the doorway looking at him standing by the corner of the room, with Sam sitting on the bed.   
Cas didn't say a word, he just looked at him with no expression before turning his attention back to Sam.   
“As I was saying, if you need me to help out with this one I can. Heaven is quiet right now, which is a good thing.” Sam nodded as Cas spoke, before clearing his throat and flickering his eyes between Cas and Dean for a moment. “Thanks Cas, I think we can handle it. I’ll call you if we need.” Sam smiled at him.   
Dean stared at Cas, willing him to look at him. Practically begging him with his eyes. He just wanted his attention.   
“Well, I’ll be listening out.” Cas said, returning a half smile back to Sam.   
“Cas,” Dean blurted out, his voice a little groggy and deep. He could feel the moment ending, like Cas is about to leave. “Cas, wait,-” Cas finally turned to him, his eyes narrowing but no hint of annoyance in them.  _ Sad eyes _ . Sad eyes looked into his. “Yes, Dean?”   
Dean swallowed, pausing. “Can we talk? Please?” He scratched his neck. Cas barely reacted, his voice was even when he spoke. “We have nothing to talk about. I’ll see you both soon.” When Dean blinked, he heard fluttering of wings fill the room and as soon as he opened his eyes, Cas was gone.    
  
“Damn it.” Dean gritted out. Frustration hitting him as he clenched his fists and shut the door behind him, walking over to the arm chair by the window in front of Sam’s bed and sitting down with a hand pressed to his mouth. The chair was stiff and completely uncomfortable, but it’s what you’d expect at a cheap motel. He shifted as he looked over at Sam who was giving him a weak smile, before standing and coming over to sit in the other chair beside the small round table between the two chairs.   
  
“So I don't know the specifics, but obviously something happened between you and Cas.” Sam said with a soft tone. “But I think I know what this, or.. Who this is about.” Dean frowned at him, the frustration and now annoyance written on his face, plain as day. Just as Dean removed his hand to speak, Sam’s hand came up to stop him. “Just. Hear me out,” Sam sat forward in his chair. “I know you’re going through something, Dean. But I don't think you should be bottling it up.” He said with concern, kindness in his eyes.   
“Alright, Sam I think that's enough.” Dean said, looking away from him and crossing his arms over his chest.   
“But Dean-” Sam tried, tilting his head like a puppy.    
“What do you want me to say, Sam? I don't need therapy. I’m fine! Just, quit it. Me and Cas will figure it out.  _ I’ll _ figure it all out.” He snapped at him, feeling the anger inside his chest. He suddenly rubbed his hands over his face. Sam watched him in silence. When Dean removed his hands, his face was red. “I don't know how, but I will. Just don't bring it up again, okay?” Dean looked over him, sighing. Trying not to let the irritance wash over him any more, Sam was only trying to help afterall.   
  
But that's just it, how on earth could Sam possibly help. This situation is so out of hand, Dean doesn't know how on earth he’ll fix this. But he’s going to try at least.   
  
Sam sat back in his chair, running a hand through one side of his hair. “Okay, I won't. But if you need to tal-”    
“Good, what are we doing today then?” Dean cut him off, rolling his shoulder back slightly which was now a dull ache.   
Sam’s lips formed a line briefly. “Well I thought we could just relax today. I was thinking actually.. I want to try that diner on 5th.” Sam shrugged, before standing and grabbing his jacket from the bed.   
  


Dean was now confused, they never go out together. This is weird.   
“Really? You want to grab something to eat?” Dean paused before standing too. “At a restaurant?” Sam could hear the complete confusion in Dean’s voice. Sam turned to him, swinging on the jacket around his broad shoulders. “Yeah, c’mon we never do things like this.” Sam said, trying a smile.   
Dean laughed once, shaking his head dumbfounded. “Exactly Sam, we never do things like this.” Dean saw his face fall a little, and now he suddenly felt bad. With a sigh, he gestured to the door. “If you really want to then.”   
Sam gave him a happy smile, before walking past him with Dean following in suit.

 

  
  
  
Sam was the one who drove. He insisted Dean needed a break, and it was a bit of a friendly fight. Dean could see Sam trying to help, trying to be nice. Dean hated the look on his face when he told him he was fine and that he wanted to drive, but when Sam’s face turned upside down. He felt bad, because if he had anyone it was Sam. Sam’s all he has right now, and while Dean is usually too stubborn to give in, too stubborn to look weak in front of him. Sam  _ knew  _ what it was about, anyway.   
  
When they arrived at the place, Dean took it in. The walls were made of a beige stone, and the roof was a slated red. There were vines all around the entrance, the sign on the door blinked open in a bright blue neon light. It had a few people sitting outside under large umbrellas. Luckily the storm had passed now, the clouds were still in the sky but they looked less threatening. The place was generally a nice looking, and it reminded Dean of some kind of retro 60’s diner.   
  
They chose to sit inside. They moved to a booth at the back sitting opposite each other. Dean facing the entrance with Sam with his back to the restaurant. They got handed two menus, and Dean noticed the waitress’ lingering stare. He looked up at her, giving her a brilliant smile. She blushed considerably.    
  
“So what can I get you?” She said sweetly. She was pretty. Young, but pretty. Her brunette hair was tied up in a ponytail, her big green eyes were stunning in the light. She had a slim figure, hugged by her white and red waitress uniform.  _ Michelle  _ sewed into the shirt.   
  
“I’ll have the chicken salad.” Sam said politely. Dean rolled his eyes behind the menu.   
“Sure, and for you?” She turned completely to face Dean, standing on one hip and she looked down at him. Dean glanced up at her, a smirk on his lips and he leant forward on the table. Sam staring at him with a blank expression, knowing exactly what he is about to do. “What would you recommend?” He spoke low, squinting up at her a little. Now, it was Sam rolling his eyes, but in plain sight.   
“Well,” She began, leaning on the table with her hip and nearly blocking Sam completely. Sam cleared his throat, but they both ignored him. “The pizza here is fantastic, or even the spaghetti. Depends what you feel like at the time.” She smiled down at him.   
Dean sat up straighter, running a hand through his hair as he smiled up at her. “Well, pizza sounds good to me.” He said, handing her the menu.    
“Great choice!” She moved off the table. “And for drinks?”   
“Water is fine for me.” Sam said from behind her. She nodded, said nothing and wrote down the orders.    
  
Dean turned to her, placing his arm on the back of the seat and grinned at her. “What’s your favourite to drink here?”   
There’s that blush again. “I like the raspberry soda, it’s really sweet how we make it.” She giggled.   
“Well,” Dean bit smirked. “If it’s as sweet as you, I’ll have to try it.”    
She smiled to herself as she jotted down the drink orders. Sam could tell he had flustered her now, and it was making him cringe. He gave Dean a look, which Dean spotted before thanking her as she walked away.   
  
After a moment, Sam spoke. “Really, Dean? The waitress?” Dean only laughed.    
“C’mon Sammy, it’s harmless.” He rolled his sore shoulder back once, wincing a bit as he smiled at him. “I’m just having some fun.” Dean said.   
“Don't you think you’re coming off a bit strong?” Sam said, giving him a playful look.   
Dean raised his hands. “Hey, she was into me first.” He laughed.   
Sam rolled his eyes again, laughing.    
Dean laughed as well. He glanced down at the table and slowly lost his smile a little as he thought of ocean blue eyes.   
  
Sam glanced over his shoulder. Dean spotted him do it and it made his forehead crease in confusion at the suddeness of it, but thought nothing of it.

  
The waitress brang out their food, Sam with his chicken salad and water.  _ So fun.  _ Then Dean with his meat lovers pizza and specially made raspberry drink. She gave Dean a pretty little smile as she placed the food down for them, and hesitated when Dean said his thanks. She was obviously expecting more of his flirting, but Sam saw his demeanour completely change. He began to eat his food, ignoring her completely. She nodded once, smiled then told them she hopes they enjoy it, and if they needed anything just ring out. Then she walked away.   
  
As they ate, Dean started noticing Sam looking over his shoulder here and there. He began to fidget, he looked zoned out of the small talk they shared with each other as they ate. It was finally enough when he saw a blonde, tall man walk into the restaurant. Dean nodded in his direction to Sam, “Look, a living ken doll.” He joked. Sam looked over his shoulder, before running his hands through his hair, raising one hand and waving him over. Dean dropped the piece of pizza immediately, watching the guy walk over. “You know that dude?” Dean said, but before Sam could answer the man was standing before them.   
  
Sam rose to stand, shaking his hand and offering him to sit in the booth next to him. He did, scooting over to the wall as Sam sat beside him.   
“This is Steve.” Sam said.   
  
Dean looked at him, noticing just how built he was. He was so broad under his shirt which was stretching across his chest. He wore a jersey jacket, with his blonde hair pushed back in a formal, old age kind of way. He had blue eyes, but in this lighting, Dean could make out the small flecks of green in them.   
  
“Hi.” He said, brushing his hands on his jeans as he looked back at Sam.   
“Hello, nice to meet you Dean.” Steve said, god he was even formal when he spoke.   
Dean was confused, how on earth did Sam know this guy? Nothing about this situation made any sense.   
“So let's cut to the chase here.” Sam began.   
“Yeah, you do that.” Dean said, leaning on the table with his elbows.   
Sam gave him a look, before restarting. “Dean I know with everything that happened, you won’t want to talk about it but.. Steve is here to help.”    
Dean frowned at him, he set his jaw before he spoke. “What is he, some kind of shrink? No offense dude.” Dean glanced his way for a moment, noticing him sitting quietly. “I don't need help Sam.” He growled.   
“No Dean, he’s not a psychiatrist. He knows the Winter-.. He knows Bucky.” Sam said, glancing at Steve.   
Dean paused. Letting the moment linger a little. He felt himself twitch a little as he heard that name  “.. And? That’s supposed to help how exactly?”   
Steve looked at Dean, squaring his shoulders. “Dean, I know him better than anyone I’ve ever known. Better than I know myself. I’ve been looking for him after an incident took place in Washington, he’s been on the run since.” Dean listened. “You know he doesn't remember things well, but he has got some of his memory back. I want to help him. I want to bring him back.” Steve sounded crushed, his eyes falling to the table. He pursed his lips and looked back up at Dean. “I know of the things he’s done to you.” Dean stopped breathing.   
“Know what things?” Dean repeated.   
Sam and Steve exchanged a look. Before Sam spoke in turn. “I told him everything.”    
Dean stared at Sam, shock and embarrassment filling him alongside the shame that coursed through his veins. “You told this complete stranger?” Dean felt his voice rising. “I can't believe you Sam.” His anger was boiling inside him. “You don't even  _ know _ what happened!”   
Sam slammed his fist on the table. The forks and knifes clattering a little as he looked at him. “Damn it Dean, it’s not like I haven't asked!” Dean looked up at him, seeing the distraught look in Sam’s face. He bowed his head, looking into his lap.    
  
Sam sat back in his chair, scratching his chin as he did. “I’m sorry, but this is  _ Steve Rogers _ , Dean. He’s the person we read about in the articles. He’s the one who fought by his side all those years ago. He knows how he works these days, and he was nearly beaten to death by him. He’s going to help us.”    
  
Dean looked at Steve under his lashes. His jaw settling, his shoulders relaxed as he took a breath. “Well I don't know where he is.” Is all Dean said finally. “I don't think he followed me.”   
“He most likely did,” Steve started, his tone polite. “He is an incredible stalker, trained for many years to do things so much worse then just simply hunt someone down. Why do you think they call him a ghost?" Dean swallowed, feeling a shiver go down his spine.   
  
“He wasn't in good shape the last time I saw him.” Dean confessed, glancing at Sam briefly.   
Steve’s expression changed, “How so?”   
Dean began to play with the hem of his jacket. “He uh. Cas.. Castiel, well he may have hurt him.” Dean said, but quickly catched his words, “But he had it coming! It was because of what was happening..” Dean scratched his brow, feeling completely uncomfortable.   
Sam stared at him. His face went white. “Dean. What happened?”   
Dean said nothing. He took his bottom lip in his mouth and looked up at Sam with a pleading look.    
“Just tell me already Dean, please!”    
  
Dean flinched, looking away. He shut his eyes, shuddering as the black wall in his mind finally came crumbling down. All the events of what happened flooded his mind. Bucky pressing him up against the wall, fucking him hard and so fucking good. Cas showing up, his hurt and lost and totally devastating face piercing his memory. The knife at his throat, the blood spilling out of Bucky’s neck. Watching Cas leave, watching Cas completely leave him in every sense of the word. Bucky on the floor, reaching for him. The rain. The thunder.   
  
He let out a small noise, screwing his eyes tightly before turning back to Sam and Steve.   
“You wanna hear it, for real Sam?” Dean felt the tears well in his eyes. “You want to know the whole god damn truth of it all?” he growled, but not with anger.   
Sam just looked at him, tears hinting his own as he listened. “Yes Dean, I really do.”   
Dean rubbed his face, before rubbing his hands down his neck. He looked up at the ceiling, before taking a shaky breath. He looked at Steve, sighed, then looked back at Sam’s glistening eyes.   
“He was fucking me.” Dean gritted out. “And the funniest part of it all?” Dean suddenly stood. Wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve. “I loved every minute of it.” Dean began walking towards the front doors, straight past the waitress from earlier who was giving him a confused look.    
  
He didn't look back either. He knew that’s all Sam needed to know. It was enough to know now just how serious, fucked up and totally insane this whole situation was. He walked back to the car, sat on the bonnet and hugged his jacket. He silently let the tears fall, not letting a single noise leave his mouth. He finally said it. The one thing he couldn't even say to himself. Now maybe, just maybe he can be cured of this. Maybe the  _ cure _ is Steve Rogers.


	8. I Came Here So You’d Come For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update! This chapter has been in the works for a while, I think I went through a bit of writers block on this one but I am back to feeling all the feels!

Dean breathed in the cold, brisk, night time air as he walked down the footpath. It was so late, he didn't know what time exactly. He didn't bring his phone, his wallet, nothing. He just.. Walked. He didn't care where he went, he felt happy to get lost if anything.   
  
Knowing well and truely, Sam would try to find him and he would eventually. It’s not hard to hide from a _hunter_. He looked straight ahead. It was quiet out here, except for the odd and distant bark of a dog somewhere. There were abandoned warehouses behind him, high fences and tall buildings left and right. He had no idea what area he was in, he had to no idea why he even went this way in the first place. He just wanted to go. He wanted to get away.   
  
He spotted an overhang, a cement wall overlooking a cliff that looks out over the harbour. He was under some kind of freeway. It wasn't used much obviously, from the silence above him. The Brooklyn Bridge in the distance, lit up beautifully against the nighttime sky. The yellow glow of the lights, the city in front of him was mesmerizing. He could stay here all night, he thinks.  
  
He leaned on his elbows on the chainlink fence in front of him, looking over the city. He could hear small waves crashing below him. There wasn't a breeze to be heard, the only thing he could hear was the water. The distance dog barking had stopped, and there was nothing.  
  
Of course, he didn't hear the footsteps walking up to him at first. He only heard them when they were mere meters behind him and yet, he _knew_. He knew he was there. He heard the heavy foot steps step closer, calculated placements and stopping behind him. Silence.  
  
He could feel him much sooner than hearing him approach, which should’ve freaked Dean out. But, he could really feel him coming. He doesn't know how, or why, but he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He sucked in a long breath, feeling his shoulders stiffen. He held his breath, closing his eyes and dropping his chin. He let the breath out slowly as he turned around standing tall to face him.  
  
When he finally brang his chin up, and opened his eyes to look at him, he felt his veins electrify. He was aware Bucky might’ve followed him, and he deep down was hoping he did. Now that he’s before him, after a few days of nothing at all. He really didn't know how he should feel and for the first time, instead of feeling queasy, he felt absolutely numb.  
  
The look on Bucky’s face was calm, hinted with.. Anger? Sadness? Dark. His jaw was set, his eyes were hooded. His shoulders were square under his big, black heavy looking coat. He said nothing, his metal fingers twitching slightly as he stared at him.  
  
Silence.  
  
With a shaky inhale, Dean used his voice. “He told me you’d follow me.” His voice was so quiet, he didn't know if Bucky even heard him. Bucky took his bottom lip in his mouth, glistening it a little before letting it pop out from his teeth, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. He still said nothing.  
Dean swallowed. “What do you want.”  
  
This time, Bucky took one… cautious? Step towards him, his head dropping slightly before halting, his movement was slow. Careful. This is the first time Dean’s ever seen him act like this.  
  
“Bucky.. what do you want?” Dean clenched his fists, waiting. Expecting Bucky to do something. He could feel it, could feel the anticipation growing around him.  
  
Bucky turned his head away, his eyelashes darkening his eyes as he looked away. He didn't say a word, but his shoulders relaxed, a muscle in his neck tensed which caught Dean’s eye. His eyes flickered there, then narrowed as he focussed in the dark, barely luminous road.  
  
His eyebrows creased, his mouth popped open as he locked onto the white, large scar running from his jaw, down into his neck and into his shirt. Dean felt his heart skip a beat, the numbness filtering away as he realized what he was looking at.  
  
Dean naturally felt his legs move him forward, he didn't tell them too, but he needed a closer look. When he realized how close he was to Bucky now, they both didn't seem to notice at first. Dean reached out a tentative hand, pulling the shirt around Bucky’s neck down carefully. Before Bucky could move, blink, Dean’s fingers were trailing down the superhuman healed scar.  
  
Bucky kept his face downturned and eyes kept away. He leaned slightly away from Dean’s touch, and he noticed. But it didn't stop him from trailing his index finger over the freshly healed skin. Dean gingerly brought the rest of his fingers to his neck, pressing slightly and Bucky made no move to stop him. He felt his breath hitch when Bucky looked up at him, is expression soft.  
  
“Is this.. Is this what I think it is?” Dean said, the palm of his hand now resting loosely on his neck. Bucky shuffled slightly, moving an inch closer.  Bucky’s jaw slackened, his lips not parting as he looked at Dean. He looked like he was about to speak, but nodded twice.  
  
Dean frowned, letting out a shaky breath. “Why did you follow me..” He didn't say it as a question, it was merely a thought he unknowingly spoke out loud. He felt two hands on his sides. His hand was now gripping Bucky’s neck, feeling his warm skin beneath his fingers.   
  
Dean instantly flinched, he pulled back quickly and took a step away from him. Bucky’s hands dropping to his sides, the movement from Dean didn't startle him. But, Dean saw his eyes go back into the dark, hooded gaze. “He’s here, you know,” Dean said quickly, clearing his throat. “Steve.” He didn't like the way his name rolled off his tongue, he felt the urge to lose eye contact with him as soon as he said his name, because Bucky’s whole body twitched.  
  
“I know.” Bucky finally spoke. “I followed you, remember.” Bucky took a step closer. “That Angel of yours, he followed too. Or.. is he still yours?” Bucky took another step. Dean took a step back. “And that’s just it, isn't it. You don't know what you really want, do you.” Another step forward from Bucky, another step back from Dean. “You never have known what you want.” Bucky’s voice a pitch lower. Another step. Dean felt the fence against his calves. Bucky stood before him, close enough Dean could feel his body heat. “What _do_ you want, Dean?”  
  
Dean stared at him. “You’re right, I don't know.” Dean muttered, he didn't feel frightened right now. If Bucky was going to hurt him, he would’ve already. _On edge_ , fit his feeling. “I know one thing though.” Dean began, leaning against the fence, now slightly lower than Bucky who was still standing before him, arms by their sides. “You and Steve?” Dean felt his hands ball into fists. “You were lovers once, weren't you.” Dean’s breath came out as a mist before Bucky, the temperature was clearly dropping around them.   
  
Bucky paused, his eyebrows knotting together briefly as Dean’s words stuck him. Then, he let out a small laugh. “Really, jealousy is a pretty colour on you.” Bucky moved forward, placing his arm near Dean’s hip on the fence behind them, and leant closer. His face was so close to Dean, he could smell him. Dean felt trapped, he looked at Bucky under the dim light.. Is that.. a smile? Bucky was smiling at him.  
“Jealous?” Dean said in a small voice, unsure of the situation unfolding before him. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” Dean frowned at him, feeling his stomach flutter with annoyance.  
Bucky’s smile grew so much so, his teeth were now visible. His eyes almost crinkled, Dean has never seen him smile like this.. Ever.   
  
He was absolutely breathtaking.  
  
“It’s rewarding to see you react to his name like that, I don't even think you’re aware of it yourself.” He looked down at Dean’s chest, smile still there before raising his eyes back to Dean. “Jealousy is tormenting.. Isn't it Dean.” Bucky brang his metal fingers to Dean’s chin. Dean stiffened at the sudden coldness, but felt the reaction to his touch all the same, and melted when his grip became firm. He shamelessly missed this. “It’s exactly how I felt.. when you left.” His voice gone quiet as he studied his lips, his smile slowly fading. “I envy that fucking Angel.. “ He pressed his lips to Dean’s softly, it was as if Bucky didn't want to scare Dean, he’s never felt Bucky kiss him like this.   
  
The kiss was deep, treasuring… gentle. Bucky moved closer, and he licked his way into Dean’s mouth which in turn, opened and invited him in with a small slip of breath. Dean frowned into the kiss, confusion clearly written into it but Bucky continued. Bucky moved closer, pressing his groin into Dean, both his hands now gripping Dean’s face and pulling him in closer. Dean let out a small moan in his throat, Bucky drank it up and rolled his hips into Dean once. Dean shuddered as he wound his arms underneath Bucky’s jacket and under his shirt, pulling him close around his warm back.   
  
It wasn't until Bucky let out a low growl, and a small bite to Dean’s bottom lip with a metal hand trailing down and gripping his hip a little too tightly, causing Dean to break the kiss suddenly. Bucky released him, pulling away and standing before him. He ran a hand through his hair, and wiped his spit covered mouth. He looked out of breath, and it turned Dean on so much so, he swallowed back a moan just from the sight.  
  
“I don't know how to be gentle, Dean. For the past few decades I have been made to do things that are so far from the word that I can't even describe the brutality of the things I’ve done.” Bucky’s voice was shaking, frustration suddenly seeping out of him. Who was this person before him, and what did they do with the Bucky Dean has known the past few weeks? Dean breathed slowly as he listened to Bucky speak the most he’s ever spoken before. He’s never seen Bucky back off from him, he’s never let Dean resist and allow it. Bucky has been nothing but cold, and suddenly he’s .. opening up? Dean felt his heart thump harder in his chest, this new Bucky in front of him got his alarm bells ringing.  
  
“You’ll never understand. I can't remember things, and when I do, I freak out.” Bucky shook his head, bringing a hand up to grip his hair. “I only know violence.” Bucky’s voice turned low again, the seriousness written on his face. “I remember Steve.. more than anything about my life.” Dean waited, leaning on the fence and crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Bucky think. “I loved him.” Bucky said quietly, scratching his brow. “I think I still do.” He looked away.  
  
Dean nodded once slowly. “You once said that I reminded you of someone.” Dean began, whispering towards the end. Bucky’s eyes snapped up and looked directly into Dean’s. “Is it him?”   
Bucky reached forward, Dean didn't flinch at all as he ran a thumb over Dean’s reddened bottom lip, then dropped his hand back to his side. A small, soft smile playing on Bucky’s lips. “Yes.” He said back quietly. “But I have never met someone so different.” Bucky said, his eyes meeting his smile. “What I’ve done to you..” Bucky said, his eyes squinting at him. Dean felt his heart nearly stop.  
  
Dean felt weak, he felt like his body was beginning to shake not because of the sheer cold of the night.. But because Bucky was actually opening up to him, he was letting himself come out and Dean never expected this. Bucky never gave off an impression of regret, in fact, he seemed to enjoy doing what he’s done. Was that what he was ‘programmed’ to do? Dean knew damn well he liked the things he and Bucky have done, even the violence, the threat, the fear. Dean soaked up every ounce of it with guilt lacing his tongue. Nothing tasted better.   
  
So what happened to Bucky in the past week? Why is he acting like… this? If Dean ever felt confused about a situation, it was nothing compared to this.  
  
“Do you want Steve?” Dean said finally, his arms tightening around his chest. “Do you want him back?”  
Bucky looked away, his expression hardening again and his focus drifting. When his eyes returned, he moved towards Dean and carelessly leaned against the fence beside him. Dean watched him lean into his shoulder with his own shoulder, the fence making a small creaking sound as it supported Bucky’s added weight. His arms copied Dean and wrapping over his own chest. Bucky sighed. “I think I’ll always want him.”  
  
_Jealously_.  
  
“Do I want him back?” Bucky repeated the question to himself. “I can't answer that.” Bucky scratched his nose. “Do I want you though?” Bucky turned his face to look at Dean who was staring at him. “That I can answer.”  
  
Dean looked away briefly then returned his eyes. “Do you?” Dean narrowed his eyes.   
Bucky looked at Dean’s lips, then his eyes, then his lips again. Dean watched as he slowly, so goddamn slowly leaned towards his mouth. Dean held his breath as he felt Bucky’s lips touch his own before he paused. “I want you so fucking much, nothing’s ever hurt me more.”   
  
Bucky’s lips were gone suddenly, the weight of the fence shifted as Dean opened his eyes to see him walking away, hood of his jacket up on his head and hands in his pockets. Dean had to blink a couple of times before he realised what was happening. Bucky was leaving.   
  
“Where’re you going?” Dean called out, stepping off of the fence to follow.   
“I’ll see you soon.” Bucky said over his shoulder. Dean could only see a few strands of hair coming out the sides of the hood.  
“Hey!” Dean yelled at him as he jogged up to catch him, pulling his shoulder back to face him. When Bucky spun around, he was calm. “You always do this, you always leave.” Dean said, setting his jaw and worrying the inside of his cheek.  
Bucky shrugged, his stance steady and sure.  
“What do we do now?” Dean said, cutting to the chase before Bucky decides to hot tail it again.   
“Well, they want me to come to you don't they.” Bucky said casually. “So I’ll come to you.” He moved forward and pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips once more, a quick, wet kiss before their lips parted with a soft click and he was walking away again.  
  
Dean watched him walk away into the darkness around them, feeling unsure if he should stop him again. What for anyway? Why should he stop him. He doesn't even know why he bothered to in the first place. He has a way of leaving like this anyway, Dean confused and in the dark.. Literally.  
  
Dean felt panic rising in his stomach, anticipation and now.. Need. He looked at Bucky’s figure walking in the shadows, and without even thinking, he called his name once more. It came out as urgent as he felt. He balled his fists, feeling the moments go by before Bucky stopped. He turned sideways and looked at him with a blank expression.   
“Please-” Dean breathed. “Don't go, don't go just yet..” Dean ran a hand through his hair. Bucky was still, he saw his eyes flicker to the ground and remained motionless. He could see his features in the shadows, he could see him thinking. Dean waited, feeling like a fool.  
  
It was only when Bucky began walking back to him that he felt that rush of adrenaline hit him.  
When Bucky reached him, he snaked his hands around Dean’s neck. Dean leaned into him, a small and hopeless “fuck yes,” slipped passed his lips as Bucky’s lips pressed against his, cutting off the words. Bucky pressed into him, holding him and kissing him hard. Dean gripped his cheeks in his hands, and eagerly kissed him back.   
  
They stayed like this for a few moments until Bucky’s hand slowly made its way down his side and snaked its way to his ass, giving it a small and firm squeeze. Dean’s hips jerked forward slightly as a rush of electricity ran through him. Dean felt him smile against his lips, a small breathy laugh came from him as he was suddenly being pushed back towards the fence they were just at moments ago. Dean walked back, letting Bucky lead him. He felt the fence against his ass suddenly, and relaxed against it. Bucky’s hands never left his body, his lips were all over Dean’s mouth and cheek. Bucky was rocking into him slightly, pulling him into his motions as Dean melted under his touch.  
  
Dean moaned when Bucky finally gripped his hair and pulled back sharply, exposing his neck. Bucky’s teeth grazed his skin, and Dean sucked in a sharp breath when he felt his wet lips, his tongue and teeth pull on the skin of his neck gently. “Want me to stay a little longer?” Bucky said against his skin, his hand trailing down to palm Dean’s hard, pulsing cock in his pants. God, he was so ready for anything Bucky did to him, and more.   
“Y-yeah,” Dean breathed, shivering as the chilled air cooled the wetness on his neck, giving him goosebumps down to his toes.   
Bucky smiled again, unzipping Dean’s fly and reaching his hand in his pants. Bucky’s hand was warm against his cock, and it felt so fucking good. Dean looked at Bucky passed his hood which had remained over his head. Keeping his face still, his lips parted with a shallow breath, “I don't want you to go.”   
  
Bucky slipped his hand underneath Dean’s underwear and began to fist his cock. He pulled, twisted and rubbed as his precome leaked out of the tip. Bucky smiled to himself as he watched Dean begun to buck into his hand, his precome coating his hand perfectly. He was slipping inside of Bucky’s fist with smooth motion, while Bucky watched his face contort in the pleasure.  
“This isn't enough, is it.” Bucky’s voice was in his ear, his metal hand laced in his hair still, pulling tightly. “You want it rougher, you like the pain.” Bucky growled, pumping his fist over his dick now with speed. Dean could feel his hips stuttering, could feel his cock pulse every few seconds. “Oh, god, Bucky..” He moaned.   
“Want it bad, don't you.” Bucky’s tongue licked Dean’s bottom lip. Dean moaned again, his shoulders hunching. “What do you want me to do.” Bucky pumped faster, his slick cock was begging to come.  
Dean looked at Bucky again, his mouth dropping slack. He pulled his hand up to Bucky’s chest, gripping tightly. “Hit me.” Dean moaned, his voice thick with arousal. “Hard.”  
  
The smile on Bucky’s face was wicked, his eyes squinted as he bared his teeth like an animal. Dean felt his stomach drop before a mere second passed and a flying metal fist struck him across the cheek. The smack was loud and wet and Dean stumbled over to the side, gripping the fence as he cupped his cheek with one hand. Bucky’s hands were gone, but he knew he was still there. He tasted blood, he blinked the pain away as he swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing between his legs.   
  
When he turned around, Bucky was still there, breathing heavy and flexing his metal fingers. He was looking down at him as Dean wiped a trickle of blood from his lip. He let his own mouth pull up into a smile, he pulled himself up as he faced him. “That all you got?” Dean pushed, feeling the adrenaline mix with absolute searing pain as Bucky barked one breath of laughter, then hit him again.  
Dean’s jaw popped as he was struck again by a cold, and brutal metal fist. He cupped his jaw, feeling his vision go blurry. He pulled up a hand, signalling for Bucky to stop, only to be hauled up and pressed against the fence. His mouth was caught by a strong hand, and harsh lips crushed against his. He opened his mouth, blood seeping all over his tongue as Bucky licked inside but he didn't care. Bucky seemed to like the taste, as his tongue danced inside his mouth.   
Bucky moaned into the kiss, snaking his hand back down to Dean’s demanding cock. He pumped fast, slick still from the precome. Dean moaned, his jaw was on fire as he kissed Bucky hard. He wrapped both arms around Bucky’s neck and hung onto him. He rocked his hips into his fist, moaning and panting against Bucky’s hot mouth.  
  
Bucky held his hip with his metal hand, his fingers digging into his bone while his real hand was at work. Dean felt heavy leaning against him, his cock was pulsing, aching all over again, begging to come. His cockhead was glistening as he broke the kiss to look down. Bucky’s fist was wrapped tightly around it, working him over with meaning.    
“Oh, hu-fuck Bucky, I’m gonna..” Dean jerked his hips. Bucky pumped faster, he nuzzled against Dean’s jaw and neck, his breath hot against his neck.  
  
Dean came hard, spurting into Bucky’s fingers. He groaned, the noise deep and full of release. Bucky pressed into him when he came, his groin entrapping his hand against his cock while Dean’s come shot passed his fingers and onto Bucky’s pants.   
Bucky released his cock, pulling his pants up for him while Dean breathed hard. Pain and ecstasy filling his body in a _painpleasure_ aura. He gripped onto Bucky’s neck, holding as he came down from his high.  
“I’ll see you soon Dean.” Bucky’s come covered thumb came up to his own mouth as Dean watched under hooded eyes. Bucky licked his thumb into his mouth, then his index finger. He never broke eye contact. “You’re fucking perfect, Dean.” He smiled with his finger on his bottom lip. With that, he pried Dean’s hands off his shoulders, kissed his hand, pulled his hood higher and turned to walk away.  
  
Dean didn't bother to call for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are some gifs, because why not!
> 
> Dean listening to Bucky opening up  
> 
> 
> Here we have Dean suddenly feeling jealous.  
> 
> 
> When Bucky admits how much he wants Dean.  
> 
> 
> Dean watching him walk away  
> 
> 
> Now we have Bucky turning to look at him after walking away  
> 
> 
> When Dean tells him to hit him  
> 


End file.
